


Ghost Touch

by Vathara



Category: Bleach
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, D&D AU, Gen, Monsters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-21 21:44:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8261389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vathara/pseuds/Vathara
Summary: What if Our Heroes have to get by in a world without a Weirdness Censor? D&D AU, mostly based on Eberron setting. Currently incomplete.





	1. Rooftop escape

**Author's Note:**

> Anything Bleach or D&D-related doesn't belong to me. Definitely AU. Working premise - what if Our Heroes have to get by in a world without a Weirdness Censor?

_Not going to make it!_

Ichigo leapt from tree to roof to empty night air when he had to, flash-stepping in the fastest, straightest line between where he was and that awful feeling that was Ishida Uryuu up against a….

_What the heck is that, anyway? Feels like a Hollow. But denser. And mixed with something._

Githyanki? It had that odd resonance he'd felt around the evil humanoids who'd helped the traitors escape Seireitei. Only githyanki were alive, and Hollows were very much undead-

A cold chill ran down Ichigo's spine. Aizen… Aizen had bragged about _experimenting_ with Hollows and githyanki. Had flat-out stated he'd made the monsters that had killed countless shinigami; creatures with abilities no regular Hollows had, that could get through a shinigami's psionic resistance. A resistance not even the strongest mind flayer could overwhelm.

If this was one of Aizen's creatures….

It didn't matter. It couldn't matter.

_Not going to make it, and the idiot's going to be dead 'cause he wanted to go home alone, and why isn't he just forming his bow and_ shooting _the bastard-_

A flash of shadow magic. Oddly contained, not the living flex of power he was used to feeling around Ishida. A _boom_ , and a lessening of the creature's frightful presence-

_There!_

Furry, vaguely humanoid, a broken Hollow bone-mask clinging to the sides of a distinctly githyanki jaw; smoldering at the edges, like the rest of the park clearing around it, but otherwise intact. No sword at its side, which argued better than any aura that whatever the thing had been, it wasn't a githyanki now; those cruel, plane-shifting people loved swords better than their own offspring. Though a sword might have been superfluous, given its fangs, talons… and shadow magic, to feed a purely Hollow hunger that would never end. It cackled as it flexed its claws longer, all the better to toy with a bleeding, _unarmed_ Quincy.

_The hell? There's enough magic loose Ishida should be able to fry a Menos-_

And it was happening again, the way it had in that desperate fight on the execution grounds against Kuchiki Byakuya; that weird feeling of being himself and _someone else_ at once. He was rushing through the night, Zangetsu wary on his back, racing to outrun the flash of uncanny hunch that had showed _Ishida bleeding, Ishida dying_ ….

He was crouched in front of the hybrid creature, out of breath and out of tricks, for once regretting the Quincy pride that hadn't let him speak….

He was _coming, damn it, stay alive!_

He was startled and shocked and bitterly amused all at once; bad enough to die because of shinigami, did he _have_ to go out with Kurosaki in his head?

_Hell, no! You're not dying on me!_

If Ichigo had thought about it, he never could have pulled it off. But if there was one thing facing off against Zaraki Kenpachi had taught him….

Sometimes, thinking was overrated.

Ishida would never have defended himself this way. But as the Quincy was out of it enough to consider death the only remaining option, Ishida could stuff it. Ichigo pushed past that awful resignation, forcing other-muscle and bone to _move_. Forget trying for distance to use a bow; dodge in _closer_ , and touch the dark amulet at his throat to shift-

_We're back on Earth._

_T_ _he amulet only triggers for a shinigami._

_Oh shit, I just killed Ishida-_

Cold burn, thrusting him out of the Quincy's mind.

And Ichigo was there, Zangetsu unleashing a dark moon of cutting force almost without thought, splitting the monster into two bleeding, very dead halves.

_Too easy_ , Ichigo thought, breathing hard as the hybrid of githyanki, warped ghost, and who-knew-what started dissolving into alien slime. _Wasn't paying attention to me. Ishida startled it?_

Probably the last thing the Quincy had managed. Damn it. Ichigo scrubbed knuckles at burning eyes. Took a deep breath, and started spiraling out from the bubbling slime, in search of-

_Don't kid yourself. If you can't feel him, you're looking for a body…._

Black fluttered in the settling dust.

Ichigo stopped cold. Scrubbed his eyes again, 'cause shadow-granted night vision or not, there was no _way_ he was seeing what he thought he was seeing. No. Way.

On one knee near a battered pine, Ishida reflexively brushed dust off his _shihakushou_ , cat-neat as ever. And froze, hands caught in folds of silky black shadow, blue eyes widening-

One flash-step, and Ichigo hauled him up by the front of his shinigami uniform. "Eyes on me, Ishida. Here and now."

Pale, Ishida swallowed. "But-"

He was not looking at the zanpakutou tucked into Ishida's obi. Definitely not. 'Cause if he looked, Ishida would look, and he _really_ didn't feel like chasing down and knocking out a freaked-out should-be Quincy tonight. Ishida was damn fast. "It's dead. You're alive." _And I am_ not _losing you to shock. Not after you got through everything else Seireitei and Aizen could throw at us._

"But… this isn't… possible," Ishida said numbly.

"It happened," Ichigo said tersely. "It's possible."

"But… the amulets aren't supposed to work…."

"For someone who's not a shinigami. Yeah."

"But we're not _in_ Tsukikage anymore!"

Anybody else, that would have been a wail. It wasn't, because Ishida was, as he'd tell you, far too cool for that kind of _blind panic_. But it was close.

"The spell was tied to the portal, and we're back, and the spell should be over," Ishida went on, words as close to tripping over each other as Ichigo had ever heard them. The archer blinked, and shivered. "For us, at least…."

_'Cause Sandal-hat made my polymorph permanent_ , Ichigo finished silently. _Yeah_. Not that he regretted doing it. He'd needed power to rescue Rukia. And unlike the rest of his friends, he didn't have magic of his own. But he'd had two months of wearing Rukia's power like a second skin. He _knew_ what it was to be a shinigami.

And if it was for life, now, instead of just until Rukia could figure out how to pry her amulet off him and go home - well, he could live with that. More than live with it. Flash-steps, especially, were actually kind of… fun. At least, when somebody wasn't trying to kill him.

But Ishida was only supposed to be other than human because of Urahara's portal. So they would blend in with the rest of the people in Tsukikage, and avoid their magic going wild because of the differences between that plane and Earth.

Then again, it was _Urahara's_ portal. And Sandal-hat's help tended to have the weirdest strings attached.

Ichigo blew out a breath, and deliberately reached near Ishida's shoulder. "You want to be sure?"

_Hell no_ , Ishida's eyes widened behind glass. And narrowed, shoulders straight. "Yes."

Chilly. But that was Ishida all over. He wasn't going to take it personally. No matter how much Ishida wanted him to. Ichigo closed fingers and magic, snagging the shadow-ribbon of Ishida's power.

Not human white. Not the chill arctic blue-white of a Quincy. Not even the red-touched white of the ordinary people of Tsukikage. Deep, blood-warm red.

_Shinigami_.

"This is not happening," Ishida breathed, bizarrely calm. Blinked. "My father's going to kill me."

_No way_ , Ichigo almost snorted. _Know you love the drama, but come on-_

Then again, this was _Ishida_. Guy didn't know the meaning of the word exaggeration. Melodrama, sure. Say what he didn't mean? Never.

_Ishida's a Quincy. Like his grandfather. Which means probably like his father. And they hate shinigami._

_Karakura, we have a problem._

"It's not your fault," Ichigo said quickly, releasing the ribbon. _Not_ releasing the shihakushou. "He wants to blame anybody, he should blame me."

"True."

"…You don't have to agree so fast," Ichigo muttered. Though it was worth it, to see a spark of life in Ishida's eyes instead of terror and guilt.

But it didn't last, as Ishida glanced away. "I chose to help a shinigami escape execution. I chose to go with you. I chose to-" he cut himself off, and stared into the night. "I was reckless. There's no excuse."

"Reckless?" Ichigo jerked a thumb over his shoulder toward still-smoking slime. "What do you call that? No bow?" The twist of will and shadow magic Ishida used to form Lone Sparrow might be bright and flashy as the gaudiest zanpakutou, but it was a damn fine bow. "What were you planning to do, sew him to death?"

Ishida tried to pry his hand off. "Obviously, you dealt with the situation in your own inimitable fashion-"

"Come to think," Ichigo said thoughtfully, using a thread of shadow to reinforce his grip, "I haven't seen you use your powers since before we left Seireitei."

Ishida rolled his eyes. "And ruin your chance to be heroic for Rukia? You had everything under control."

Okay, now Ichigo _knew_ something was screwy. Besides the obvious. "Ishida. You _never_ think I have everything under control." He paused, and reluctantly added, "And sometimes, you're right."

Behind glass, blue eyes glanced at him askance. _"Sometimes?"_

"See?" Ichigo smirked.

The archer finally twisted free, and stepped back, gaze cold and angry. "It's not your problem, Kurosaki."

"You're my _nakama_. It sure as hell _is_ my problem."

"I'm not a shinigami!"

"Maybe not tomorrow, after we pound on Sandal-hat's head and get him to change you back," Ichigo allowed. "But right now - yeah. You are. And you're one of mine. I can't not help. You know that!" And grabbing Ishida's shoulder was the wrong move, he knew it as soon as he did it, but-

_He's one of mine. Like Chad. Orihime. Tatsuki. Rukia - though I'm not sure if she feels that tug toward us. Like…._

"Renji went after his own captain for Rukia," Ichigo stated, stepping back. "Rangiku took on Gin to protect her captain. Captains Ukitake and Kyouraku… once one of 'em went up against Yamamoto-Genryuusai - the _Commander-General_ \- only hell would've kept the other one out of it. Maybe you don't feel it-"

If he hadn't been watching, he never would have seen Ishida flinch.

"Or maybe you're-" _scared_ , "-upset 'cause you do." Ichigo shook his head. "If you can't form your bow-" _and there's no way he's going to use that zanpakutou, not unless I pull one of Sandal-hat's tricks and beat him into it_ , "-you're walking Hollow bait. And you know it. _Orihime_ is safer than you. Tell me to stay out of your mess, fine - you think she's going to let you walk off to be eaten? That is _not_. Going. To happen."

Ishida's jaw worked. For a moment Ichigo knew he'd gone too far, said too much… or somehow, not enough.

"…You have an annoying habit of rubbing off on people."

_Not going to sigh in relief. Nope._ Ichigo raised a challenging orange brow. "Yeah?"

Ishida's lips thinned. "I don't want to talk about it."

_Must not tear idiot's hair out._ "Fine. Don't. But-"

Ishida raised a hand for silence, black brows creased in a frown.

_Bastard's magic sense is_ still _better than mine_. Not that Ichigo needed magic to hear the yells of the approaching Watch. Ishida might have gotten to a fairly quiet spot before he cut loose, but somebody had heard the explosion. "No time we gotta go-!"

"Gurk-!"

Which was probably meant to be a protest, Ichigo knew, grinning like a maniac as he hauled Ishida by the collar into the surreal blur of flash-step. Hey, Yoruichi had done it to him - and when you couldn't pay back, pay forward.

"You - insane - night, they can't see us-"

"Three words. _Magic detecting lenses_." Up and around through the branches of a towering oak, lamppost, rooftop and _run_. Heights were tactically sound, not just fun; less to run into, less chance of any stray magically-sensitive people catching a blurred glimpse 'cause people just, generally, did not look up. "They started passing 'em out to special squads after our little Hollow-killing contest. Now just about every patrol's got one."

"How-?"

"My dad talks to 'em when they stop by the clinic. You know, if somebody needs patching up." Suspect or Watchman; sometimes a quick healing potion _now_ beat major healing spells later. And Isshin would fill his kids' ears with all the Watch gossip around the dinner table. When he wasn't sailing _over_ the dinner table, attacking his son in the name of training. Ichigo had groused about listening to it, but privately he'd been glad to hear where the local gangs were hanging out. No matter how many idiots he took down, there was always one more who hadn't heard his hair wasn't bleached.

_Like I'd make it orange on purpose?_

And ever since Rukia had tucked herself into his closet, he'd been more grateful than ever for Watch gossip.

_Never thought I'd be making a habit of outrunning the law. In two worlds, even._

And it was _definitely_ Yoruichi's fault that it was fun.

Still grinning, Ichigo bounced to a halt on the peak of a temple just a few blocks from the clinic. Took a quick look around out of habit, though his substitute's badge should already be yelling if a Hollow were nearby. It'd yelped once on the way toward Ishida, before he deliberately shut it down so enemies wouldn't have a chance to be warned. It wasn't supposed to be audible to anybody but another shinigami - but given just who had crashed his way out of Seireitei, that wasn't exactly reassuring. "What'd you sense?"

Breathing deep, Ishida shook off the dizziness of being hauled through someone else's flash-step. "I'm not sure. It felt familiar, but - nothing feels right anymore."

Yeah. Feeling with his own power was definitely different from sensing things with Rukia's. He couldn't put a finger on how; it just was. Going from Quincy senses to shinigami had to be even more of a jolt. "Chad? Inoue?" It was a long shot, but- "Renji? Rukia?"

"…No one you know."

But someone Ishida knew. Enough to upset him. Put that together with how few people Ishida even gave the time of day to - Ichigo tried not to swear. _Damn, how much did his dad hear?_

Too much, if his senses were anywhere near as sharp as his son's. Not to mention shinigami shadow-ribbons didn't exactly blend into the crowd.

_Chad, Inoue - even if he knew where they lived, they've got wards up. And Quincys can't walk through walls. They'll be fine._

Ishida, though…. "Come home with me."

From anybody else, that would have been an outright stare of disbelief. "Kurosaki. I know I've said this before, but - are you _insane?_ "

"Hollow bait," Ichigo enunciated. "You know my magic sense is lousy, and I can still feel you flaring all over the place." Not a bright flare, not yet, but he'd hate to see what happened if Ishida _really_ panicked. "C'mon, it'll be fine. Yuzu can make extra and fuss over you 'cause you're so much cooler than me, and Karin can snark at both of us, and you can hang back and snicker while I get pummeled by my Dad. Only fair."

Ishida snorted. "I don't snicker."

_Yeah, sure_. But there was just a hint of interest in blue eyes. For Ishida, that was relaxing. "Just hang with us for the night, okay? We get through that, we get through school tomorrow - and then we can all go pound Sandal-hat 'til he fixes you guys."

The archer stiffened. "All?"

Ichigo gave him a _look_. "Same spell. Same portal. What do you think?" _That's it. That's it, I've got him thinking about the others now, he's gonna get through this…._

Ishida sighed. "One condition."

"Yeah?" Ichigo said warily.

The archer's fingers plucked at shadow silk. "Get me out of this!"

Easy enough. He hoped. "Hand on the amulet," Ichigo instructed, putting one hand on his own and the other on Ishida's shoulder. "Try to follow my feel. Reach into the gem, just like reaching for a shadow. It's part of your shadow. Part of your soul. Reach… be calm… let the fight flow away, you don't need it. Step out of the shadow, into warm sun…."

Eyes closed in concentration, Ishida shimmered.

Visible and solid again, Ichigo grinned. _Picks it up quick. Wonder how he'd do with kidou?_ "Not bad."

"…We're on a roof."

" _Now_ you notice?" Ichigo shoved his hands into his pockets, and waited for Ishida to figure out his options. Based on his own past experience, it was either flash-step down or risk tangling with the temple wards. Doable, but not fun. "What the hell was that thing, anyway?"

A grim pause. "I don't know."

_And cue the drama._ Ichigo rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, unless somebody grew a brain and put some stuff on githyanki and weird undead on the shelves, libraries aren't going to be much help." Not that they'd be much help anyway, if Aizen was using the Orb of Distortion to make all-new monsters. Brr. And asking any of their teachers was right out. Which led to the inevitable, head-banging conclusion. "We're going to have to ask Sandal-hat."

Even Ishida winced at that one.

Still, it was hard for Ichigo not to let just a little smile past his usual scowl. They were home, they were all alive - and after facing down half the captains, assistant captains, and general badasses in Seireitei, Karakura's usual Hollows were going to be a nice break.

_…I did not just think that._

Too bad he was an awful liar. Even to himself. The substitute's badge was warm against his skin, and he was almost bouncing at the thought of tackling something that could be flat-out destroyed, instead of facing off against another fallible, noble, sometimes even likeable human being. Not that shinigami were exactly human, but - yeah.

_Too much time around Zaraki._

And Yoruichi. Urahara. Renji. Even shy little Hanatarou. And that didn't even get into the tangle of affection and exasperation he felt for the little closet-stealer who'd started this whole mess. Kuchiki Rukia _believed_ in her mission of purifying Hollows; believed in it enough to risk her own life, and drag along a reluctant, rude, and - admit it - often terrified teenager to make sure it got done.

And somewhere along the way, he'd started to believe in it too.

_Guess Dad was right, for once_ , Ichigo thought wryly. _You gotta learn to adapt, 'cause you never know what life's gonna throw at you._

_Hard to believe that three months ago, I never wanted to see another Hollow again…._

* * *

 

"Where's the spirit- gack!"

A metallic _shush_ of chainmail. "Grab him!"

Hard hands on his arm, twisting. "Assault on a Watch officer-"

"Hell, he's not even awake yet. Hey, kid!"

_Wait a second_ , Ichigo realized muzzily, relaxing before the hold could tear at his shoulder. That wasn't his father whose nose he'd just tried to flatten. Not that he usually tried to smash his foot _that_ hard into his father's face, but after last night….

Dad. Yuzu. Karin. The _shinigami_ -

A lantern cast glare into his eyes, reflecting off a Watch-captain's pauldron as the officer strode over to a groaning black-haired man on the floor. "Doctor Kurosaki?"

"Yeah, clinic's closed, where's the fire-" Isshin Kurosaki stood up, weaving a little as he stared at the gaping hole in the living room wall. Outside neighbors' lanterns and mage-lights glimmered in the night, spectators gathering now that the disaster seemed to be over. "Whoa! What happened? Carriage crash?"

"Malevolent ghost," a priest with a Watch badge pinned to his blue robes reported, bare hand hovering over torn wood and plaster. "The emanations speak of deadly intent. Do you know of anything your family might have done to attract such interest?"

Ichigo's breath caught, lump in his throat, before he deliberately evened it out. For all Karin's dry teasing about setting up ghost tours, it was an unwritten rule of the household that no one official knew some Kurosakis _always_ saw ghosts. Whether they'd manifested or not.

"Hell, we probably patched up somebody it had a grudge against," Isshin said easily, ruffling dust out of wild black hair. "Where's my girls? Yuzu! Karin!"

"Not time to get up yet," Karin muttered, burying her head under her arm where she lay on the floor. Yuzu was huddled against her back, shivering.

_Lump on my throat, not in it_ , Ichigo realized, feeling a fine silvery chain shift against his skin. He knew without looking down that the chain led under his shirt to a web of silver, cradling an otherworldly gem that glittered like midnight sky. _I'm still wearing Rukia's amulet?_

He'd needed it to use her _zanpakutou_ , sure - and why did anybody need a fancy name like _ghost cutter_ for a sword when most people just called 'em ghost touch? Only it hadn't looked like any of the ghost touch weapons the Watch's emergency responders had rushed into the clinic with. The zanpakutou's blade was jet black and faintly rippling, not the faint white glow of local blades-

And it was the priest he almost punched this time, grip on his arm or not.

"He's possessed!" one of the Watch snarled.

"Nah, just cranky," Isshin grinned. "Nice reflexes, son!"

" _No_ , I'm not possessed," Ichigo got out, glaring down the priest. Sure, pray to the gods and get spells to solve your problems. Not like he ever saw any cleric-type just _talking_ the ghosts into passing over. Nope; pray, wait for trouble, go in and smite the ghost, wait for it to reform, smite again….

And he was babbling to himself. Again. How hard had that bastard hit him?

_You. Hole in wall. Draw the map_ , part of him snarked back. _Talk to the nice officers_.

Right. Sooner they left, sooner he could collapse and sleep. "It didn't try to possess anybody. It didn't _want_ to possess anybody. It just wanted to kill people."

"You saw it?" The Watch captain, a grizzled older man with claw-scars from the left side of his scalp all the way down his throat, currently regarding Ichigo with narrowed eyes.

"Well, of course the boy saw it, Captain Shinchuu," the priest huffed. "It had to manifest to do this much physical damage."

"So who did it look like?" the captain persisted.

"More like a what." Ichigo grimaced, putting together one of the fastest verbal tap-dances he'd had to use since the first time he'd helped Chad out of trouble. Why was it no one would believe a half-orc kid _didn't_ start a fight? "It was big. Maybe twelve feet tall. Kind of striped, with a fish-face and a fin on its head. And teeth. _Big_ teeth. Sort of reminded me of something in Miss Ochi's Current Events class… sahaugin, maybe?"

"Sahaugins don't come twelve feet tall," the captain said dryly.

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "Tell the ghost that."

"What drove it off?" the priest asked sharply.

_Damn_. Rukia - or somebody - had fixed a lot; his family just looked tired and shaken, not broken and bleeding. But tearing up the house like that had obviously been heard for blocks, and with the priest around like a living ghost-trace detector-

And _why_ couldn't he think straight? It was like something kept poking cool fingers into his memories, shuffling them like a stack of tarot cards.

_Focus_.

Cool. Pitiless. Like the breath of a winter wolf down his neck. Panicking now….

_Focus_ , chill commanded.

"I don't know," Ichigo got out. "I didn't see much." _I was a little busy trying to stay alive._ "I was trying to get it away from Yuzu and Karin, and…."

Snow brushed his thoughts, leaving an image behind.

"…He was kind of tall," Ichigo stated, relieved and unsettled at once. "Bright red hair, funky black tattoos on his face, black clothes. He went after the-" _Hollow_ "-ghost, and - I'm not really sure what happened next." Ichigo shrugged. "Next thing I know, you guys are grabbing me." And who the heck had he just fingered? Not shrimpy, black-haired Rukia, at least.

Cool amusement, touched with annoyance. Not his. Definitely not his.

_The amulet?_

Which felt right and wrong at the same time. Oh man, what had he gotten himself into?

_What I had to_ , Ichigo told himself firmly, keeping any hint of panic off his face. Nervous breakdown _later_. If any of what Rukia had told him was true, if Hollows really were ghosts twisted by dark illithid magic into spirits that hunted down any humans with the will to resist mind control-

_It wouldn't have stopped 'til it sucked the life out of us all. And stored our living brains for its master to eat… yuck._ He couldn't hide a shudder, thinking back to the lousy scribbles Rukia had drawn, of a bear-shaped Hollow with squiggly brains inside. Made him kind of glad she was a lousy artist.

_Good fighter, though. Hope she's still alive. Or - whatever._ She'd bled, she'd breathed; both things that ought to put her on the living side of the scale, little death god or not.

On the other hand, she had been incorporeal. And invisible. At least to people who couldn't see and touch unmanifested ghosts. Like his dad.

_Maybe a really, really weird sorceress?_

Or maybe she was just what she'd said she was. A one-hundred-fifty-odd year old extra-planar being, here hunting Hollows before they could find their way to her home plane, Tsukikage.

He'd heard of alternate Material Planes, of course. Karakura First High School taught a lot of sorcerer-apprentices like Keigo and other adventurers' kids, not just ordinary students like him. But he didn't know much more than the fact that they existed, and they could be very different from Earth. Extra-planar beings were pretty much upper-level independent study material, and he was only fifteen.

_Illithids, shinigami, Hollows, Tsukikage_ , Ichigo ticked off in his head as the Watchman finally let go. _Looks like I've got to sneak into the school library again._

Not that he couldn't just walk in. He actually spent plenty of time in with the books, between dodging some of the more annoying ghosts and keeping his grades up. But he had an image to protect.

Though for once, image could go hang. Ichigo knelt down and put an arm around Karin's shoulders as his dad crooned over Yuzu. "Hey."

"Ow," Karin groaned, abandoning tomboy self-reliance enough to lean on him. "What's the Watch doing… whoa."

"Bad ghost," Ichigo summed up. "Gone now."

Black eyes stared suspiciously into brown, and Karin raised a skeptical brow.

_Explain later_ , Ichigo mouthed at her.

_Damn well better_ , Karin glared back. She might be in permanent denial about seeing ghosts, but a cart-sized hole in the living room wall wasn't something you could wish away.

"You know what this means?" Isshin said, uncharacteristically sober as he cradled a blinking Yuzu against his shoulder.

"I'm afraid to ask," Karin muttered.

"Indoor camping!" Their father struck a dramatic pose. "Karin, the mosquito netting! Yuzu, the camp pots!"

The little blonde brightened. Karin glanced at her twin, and gave her older brother a look of _wake me when it's over_.

"I'll get the hammer and nails," Ichigo sighed. After all, ghosts, magic, and extra-planar bedroom trespassers aside, _somebody_ had to be the practical one in this house.

"Who wants to roast marshmallows?"

And it sure wasn't Isshin.

_Boards, hole fixed, bed_ , Ichigo told himself. _Everything'll look better in the morning._

And it did. Until he got to school.

Which proved that there really _were_ gods, and They had a _sick_ sense of humor.

* * *

 

"You want me to _what?_ "

The shrimp of a shinigami-who-currently-wasn't gazed up at him, violet eyes bright with what Ichigo just _knew_ was malicious glee. "What's the problem? You have the magic of a shinigami now. And _someone_ has to run my patrol. I'll help you." In the shadow of the athletic field bleachers, Rukia shrugged slightly. "You really have no choice; if you hadn't borrowed my powers, my amulet wouldn't be stuck on you now. Though why it's still clinging to a human, I have no idea…."

"No way!"

That stopped her. For all of ten seconds. "Excuse me?" Rukia managed.

"I said no way!" Deliberately, Ichigo turned his back on her, and started back toward school where it was safe. "Ghosts are bad enough. I'm not going up against anything like that again!" Maybe he could talk to one of the wizardry or sorcery instructors… or Miss Ochi, yeah, that'd be better. She was a bard, she knew and believed the weirdest things; rumor around the school said she might be scatterbrained, but that was only because she'd actually _been_ to one of the sanity-warping demon-ruled dimensions, before retiring from active adventuring. She wouldn't flinch if he told her the new transfer student was actually from another plane. Though it might earn Rukia an involuntary sprinkling with holy water. And after all, if Rukia really had lost most of her powers, she wasn't likely to be able to kill him. No matter what she threatened.

"Wait a second!" The cool, calm, and collected shinigami actually sounded flustered. "You… yesterday…."

"That was my family!" And yeah, he owed her for that, but- Ichigo looked back over his shoulder, forcing himself not to shake. "I'm not going to fight those things for total strangers!" _Like they say: I'm not stupid, I'm not expendable, and I'm not going._

Rukia looked bewildered. "But I thought this was a school for-"

"Adventurers?" Ichigo snorted. "You gotta learn not to take Keigo too seriously. Yeah. A lot of people here want to go into that kind of thing. Keigo's got sorcery in his blood, Mizuiro wants to be a bounty hunter, Chad's saintly enough to make paladin, half-orc or not… heck, even Orihime's training to be a priestess. But some students are just here to learn how to do the stuff that's not flashy. The kind of stuff a town like Karakura needs, that's got nothing to do with adventure. Like Tatsuki; she doesn't want to be heroic, she just wants to be a good magehunter with the Watch someday, and make sure what wizards did to her relatives never happens to anybody else. And me? I'm in _beginning alchemy_. Hand to hand I'm okay in, it fills the P.E. requirement and it's fun going up against Tatsuki. I don't know anything about kenjutsu. If I hadn't gotten the drop on that Hollow last night, we'd both be dead. I'm going to be a doctor, like my Dad, and lead a quiet, boring, _normal_ life." Outside of the ghosts. Darn it. "Look. We'll find a wizard, or sorcerer, or somebody who can get this rock off me. You can tag somebody in the Watch instead, they'll be glad to-"

Red glove. Skull with blue flames on it. Coming at his chin like lightning, even Tatsuki wasn't that fast.…

_Perfect palm-heel strike_ , part of him noted. The rest was _burning cold, drowning in shadows, can't breathe-_

Breathing. Collapsed in a dusty, incorporeal heap on the walkway to the field, but breathing. Cold - and yet not, like stepping into welcome shadows on a blazing summer day. Shadows that were even now slipping over him to settle in folds like silk, and solidify into a sheathed weight on his back.

"I can't use my amulet. I never said I couldn't activate it." Rukia latched onto his hand, firmly as he would a particularly annoying ghost. _"You."_

It _echoed_ in his head, like that binding spell he'd broken last night, like Rukia's swift hiss before her zanpakutou pierced his heart; a whisper of extra syllables that melded with shadow to redefine himself and the world. Only instead of locking his arms behind him, or shifting power from one soul to another, this _called_ to power.

 : _You. You_ are-  
: _Shinigami-  
_ : _Ally_ -  
: _One who remembers duty._ :

Shadow magic was kidou's heart, but these fragments - what he would later learn were _truespeech_ \- were its soul.

"Come with me!"

Little or not, she could _pull_.

* * *

 

When he thought about it later, the freakiest part was how _normal_ the park had been. Normal sunny day, normal city sounds, normal pair of teens skipping class to watch over a little ghost boy.

…Okay, so that part didn't count as normal, given 1) normal teens wouldn't have been able to see that ghost, 'cause he _never_ manifested, 2) one teen was actually an extra-planar entity looking for Hollow alerts on her pocket-sized scrying mirror, and 3) the other teen was currently incorporeal with a borrowed sword of soul and shadow, clinging to a bush's shade so sunlight wouldn't show him as a heat-haze to ordinary eyes.

Add that up, and the giant crab-Hollow was just icing on the cake.

Sure, save one ghost, you had to save them all - not. That logic would work on Chad, maybe, but Ichigo was no paladin. And he knew it.

"I'm not ready to commit to this. Next time stuff gets hectic, I might just run.

"But I owe you."

He was a Kurosaki. He paid his debts.

Though that first _konsou_ almost made them fly out of his head.

_Light._

Pouring through him, the sword, the ghost. A stillness like dawn, brushed with a silk-steel whisper of _words_ he hadn't known he'd known, shattering the intangible bonds holding the spirit to this plane even as it _shifted_ -

And a hell butterfly fluttered into blue, and vanished.

"Ichigo?"

Still kneeling where he'd tapped the zanpakutou's hilt to the boy's forehead, Ichigo blinked. He ought to be saying something to Rukia. But ordinary words would tear that peace like tissue paper. He couldn't do it.

"Ichigo!" A small but powerful fist crashed into his skull. "We're going to be missed if we don't hurry."

"…Right."

The walk back was quiet. Rukia fended off anyone who looked likely to question her with an innocent glance and a brilliant smile. And of course, as long as he stuck to shadows, no one could see him. 

_Everything's different_.

He hadn't really had a chance to notice last night, but now he could feel it all. The sun, the odd solid-yet-not way the street felt under his sandals, the stray chill ethereal breezes left by passing spirits. "Is it always like that?"

"All Hollows share certain common characteristics-"

He yanked on the collar of her school uniform. "The konsou!"

"…What did you feel?"

Talk about personal questions. But maybe it was important. "Connected." Step, breathe, think. "Like… something buried woke up, and reached out, and - made us the same. Just for an instant." Ichigo scowled. "I didn't even know that kid. Why did I feel like-" He couldn't say it.

"Like he was kin?" Rukia's voice was quiet. Almost neutral. "There are reasons we do not reveal ourselves to the inhabitants of this plane." A hesitant breath. "Do you… wish to know?"

"I didn't hurt him." And it was kind of scary how _sure_ he was. The kind of bedrock certainty that belonged to _Mommy loves you_ and _Dad's nuts, but he loves you too_.

"No." Rukia kept walking. "The hell butterfly brings the soul home. Within a few hours, possibly a few days, a young boy will wake up in Soul Society. In Tsukikage. A purified soul, one of my people." A bittersweet smile touched her eyes. "Divine power does not reach our plane easily. New souls are hard to attract. Few of us can have children. Someone will be glad to see him."

Ichigo blinked, thinking it over. "So… you're saying you keep your race going with some kind of reincarnation spell?"

Another few steps. "Do you… think we are evil?"

Ichigo let out a slow breath. "We're looking for the quiet ghosts, right? People who aren't pissed off enough to manifest, which means the priests don't see them, but too pissed to move on. So they're not headed for the afterlife anyway. And they're targets for the Hollows. Who'd drag them back to the illithids and make them man-eating monsters." He thought a little longer. "What happens after you die?"

"My soul will return to this plane, to be born again."

"So you're not really _taking_ souls. Just - borrowing them for a while." Ichigo shook his head. "If I were stuck, I wouldn't want to end up a monster. Somebody like you seems like a pretty good deal."

She looked up at him then, one eye still hidden by that sweep of black bangs. And - he saw it.

A crinkle at the corners of her eyes. A shadow of a curve to her lips. Just the slightest extra bounce in her step, as if some of the weight of the world had been lifted off her shoulders.

_That's Rukia. When she's_ really _smiling_.

And like his Mom had told him all those years ago, if you could see that, you knew who someone really was.

Glancing at the oncoming crowds, Ichigo smirked at her. "Race you back."

"Hey!"

Of course, if he'd known he was heading back to class with Ishida Uryuu, a guy who hated his guts just because of what he was, Ichigo might have been tempted to let her win.

She cheated, anyway.

* * *

 

"I am a Quincy." Dark black hair. Cold, angry blue eyes. Glasses and a weird white coat that could have been ripped right out of an illusion-drama featuring an insane wizard-alchemist. "And I… _hate_ shinigami."

_Negative points for the outfit and the melodrama_ , Ichigo tallied mentally, still gaping at the dissipating energies where a Hollow had been. _Huge, glowing longbow made out of shadow magic -_ big _plus_.

And instead of starting the classic evildoer's knock-down drag-out after his declaration of everlasting hatred, Ishida simply turned and walked away. Which gave him a definite bonus for pure class.

Darn it.

So instead of chasing after the guy-

_To do what? Fight him? Hey, I go after monsters, not crazy people._

-Or running _away_ from the idiot-

_Sure, fine, spirit-killing bow - I've got a job to do, and no veiled threats are gonna keep me from doing it._

-Ichigo just stood there on the street corner with an equally shocked Rukia, trying to work out exactly how he'd ended up in this mess.

_So far these past weeks: Survived first Hollow attack. That I knew of_ , Ichigo ticked off. _Survived going after first Hollow deliberately. Survived telling Karin I'm hunting said man-eating magic-mutated ghosts…._

And that had been a trick and a half all by itself. On the one hand, his little sister had been glad to have an explanation for what had wrecked the living room, why her brother suddenly felt a little funny around the edges of her ghost sense, and where Yuzu's pajamas had gone. On the other, Karin was pretty much convinced he was going to do something stupid and get himself killed. And worse, make her explain it.

Rukia's blithe and cheery assurance that nonsense, she was an experienced shinigami, nothing was going to happen, was _not_ helping.

Although when Rukia finally broke down and grumbled that if anyone was going to kill an orange-haired loudmouthed punk of a substitute shinigami, it was going to be her….

Well, after that, Karin grinned. Evilly. And seemed quite willing to leave him to Rukia's nonexistent mercies.

_Closet sadist._

At least they both agreed on one thing: there was no _way_ they were telling Dad.

Especially not about Grand Fisher.

_I thought fighting Orihime's brother Sora as a Hollow was bad. Then that poor kid Yuichi's spirit, stuffed into Chad's parakeet by that psycho serial killer Hollow I sent to Hell…._

That still shook him, remembering. The massive chained gates opening in mid-air. The shadowy figure that had speared the fracturing Hollow, dragging it into a place that had put the incorporeal hairs _straight_ up on Ichigo's neck.

A soul had gone to hell. And he'd helped it happen. Never mind that the spirit's own actions as a living human had damned him beyond hope of redemption. The gate had opened, and it was Ichigo's… not fault. Fault would imply he'd done something wrong, and the only wrong thing to do would have been let the Hollow keep killing.

But it was his responsibility.

Still. Even that wasn't as bad as lying helpless in the rain, bleeding over Rukia's hands as his mother's murderer escaped.

"He got away," Rukia said flatly, helping him bandage the wounds she hadn't had strength to finish healing. "But we took no casualties. You _won_."

And she was right, she was; Grand Fisher had attacked Yuzu and Karin, the same way he'd attacked Ichigo six years ago - but this time, he wasn't just a naïve kid who couldn't always tell ghosts from living people. This time he was a shinigami, and he'd felt the crawling evil that said _Hollow_ , and he'd gotten there in time and they were just _fine_. Exhausted, but fine. And Isshin didn't know anything worse had happened to them than getting tired from a long day visiting their mother's grave.

But… to know his mother had been murdered by a Hollow, a Hollow that had apparently been after _him_ -

_I don't even know if she's really dead. Something must have interrupted the bastard, or I'd be dead too. Maybe her spirit got away._

Or maybe it was still out there, twisted by illithid sorcery into a creature that knew nothing beyond hunting, and feeding….

Gods, he'd woken the whole house with his nightmares after that.

At least one good thing had come out of that awful, rainy, blood-soaked day. Rukia had grudgingly admitted that human or not, Karin seemed to have some of the same innate potential for shadow magic he had, they couldn't be everywhere at once, and his sister might as well learn something to defend herself. By the time Rukia had been kidnapped and Ichigo had left for Soul Society to rescue her, Karin could patch up small wounds and charge a rock - or a ball - with enough shadow magic to _hurt_ a Hollow. 

Wouldn't kill it, no. But the point was to keep herself alive long enough for him to get there. And that, she could do.

_Still, if Sandal-hat hadn't promised there'd be someone around to look out for them while we were in Tsukikage… I never could have gone._ Ichigo shook his head. _Still can't believe Ishida came._

Not after the history the angry Quincy had revealed to him in a Hollow-filled park, arrows of shadow magic leaping from Lone Sparrow to shatter white masks. History of a rare, tragic people who could see the Hollows, who'd lost loved ones to them, who'd _fought_ them….

And who'd realized, two centuries ago, that they were dying out. And tried to expose Hollows to the world, while there was still time.

_But if regular people figured out magic to see the Hollows… they'd be able to see shinigami, too._

And once mainstream clerics got the chance to figure out what a shinigami konsou actually did-

_Soul Society would die._

Hence the Quincy massacre.

So Ishida had a legitimate beef with shinigami. Especially since someone in the upper ranks of the Gotei Thirteen - and having been there, Ichigo thought he could make a good guess who - had held back the shinigami who should have rescued Ishida's grandfather from the Hollows.

_You don't get over that. Ever._

But Ishida had gotten past it. Kind of. At least enough to fight back to back with a substitute shinigami against a wave of Hollows. If only so he'd get a chance to kick Ichigo's ass later.

Funny thing was, _later_ never seemed to come.

_He tried to stop Byakuya and Renji from taking Rukia back_ , Ichigo thought now, heading around the front of the Kurosaki Clinic for the side door that would take them into the main house. Ishida was a few steps behind; a gloomy, morbid shadow. _He came with us to rescue her, though I think he had a better idea of the odds we were up against than anyone. He didn't deserve to have Sandal-hat screw with his head like this._

Ishida's presence grew even more distant. Ichigo turned, saw him frozen, real dread shadowing his face. "What? You look like we're about to walk into a hall full of Eleventh Division idiots. They're just my family."

"And I'm sure they're sane, sweetness, and light, compared to you," Ishida retorted half-heartedly. "I was just… thinking…."

_Not good._

"What if the school wants one of those 'What I did on summer break' essays tomorrow?"

Ichigo blinked. Tried not to laugh. Or wince. "Lie like rugs." He turned back to the door-

"Welcome hooome, Ichigoooo!"

_Ah, hell._

Foot to face, fist to gut, remember not to slip instinctively into flash-step, tumble, dodge, try not to bite with the sheer frustration of having to go through this _again_ , roll….

"So you're one of Ichigo's friends?" Karin said in the background as the Kurosaki males crashed into a wall.

"Um…."

"Kurosaki Karin," the ten-year-old introduced herself. "This is my sister, Yuzu. You know my idiot brother, and the bigger idiot in the crazy shirt is our Dad, Kurosaki Isshin."

"Ah…."

"You get used to it," the black-haired girl sighed. "Give it another few seconds, until Ichigo-"

_Thump. Rattle. Bang!_

"Oh, Masaki, my love," Isshin groaned mournfully into the floor, as Ichigo twisted arms directions they weren't supposed to go, "you'd be so proud of our son. Standing up for himself, loyal to his friends-" The doctor managed to raise his chin off the mats long enough to glance at Ishida. "Manners could use some work, though. Well? Who'd you drag home, Ichigo?"

"Drag him?" Ichigo sputtered. "I didn't- I wasn't going to-"

Which was when a guilty part of his brain kicked in that technically he kind of had. And would have done worse, if he'd had to, rather than let one of his nakama walk into an ambush.

_Oh hell. I was right. Shinigami_ are _crazy._

And he was stuck with it. For life.

_Definitely helping Ishida kick Urahara's ass._

"Um. Dad, this is Ishida Uryuu. He's in my class, and Orihime's handcrafts club…." And what else could he say, that wouldn't get them in even more hot water?

"Ryuuken's little sprout? Gods, it's been ages. Should have known you two would find each other eventually." Moving fast, Isshin wrapped Ishida in a bone-cracking hug. "Relax. After dinner I'll head out and stand your dad a few rounds, let him yell at me 'til he stops wanting to shoot you."

"…You know my father?" Ishida managed.

"You know his dad?" Ichigo echoed in disbelief.

"Hey, there aren't that many doctors in Karakura," Isshin grinned, stepping back. "Besides, I tend to remember guys who kill Hollows out to eat me."

Dead silence. Karin was staring. Ishida was white. Yuzu was looking at them all, bewildered.

Slightly more immune to the utter insanity his Dad spread in his wake, Ichigo glared. "Are you telling me you've known what Hollows are _all this time?!?_ "

"After dinner," Isshin said expansively. "Ah! Yuzu! It smells delicious!"

 

* * *

 

_This household_ , Ishida thought, mutely accepting a second serving of rice from Yuzu as Ichigo and his father went at it again, _is ground zero for a_ mass confusion _curse. It's the only logical explanation._

Which actually explained a lot about the orange-haired shinigami. Compared to this ruckus, hunting Hollows might be a peaceful change of pace.

_Not like my Father's house was. Not at all._

Ishida snuck another glance at the massive memorial poster blazoned across one wall. The Kurosaki offspring might find Isshin's dramatic exclamations to his dead wife embarrassing. Ishida felt… touched. And a little jealous.

_Father doesn't have anything of Mother's around. Not a picture, not a memorial knot of hair, barely even a mention in the family shrine._

He'd give up dignity willingly, to have his mother made as _present_ as Isshin made Masaki.

Well, maybe most of his dignity. He was a Quincy, after all-

Breathe through the anguish. Control. He had to stay in control. Breaking borrowed chopsticks would be rude.

_Shh…._ A whisper, like a night breeze in mountain forest. _Safe here. Rest…._

Ishida found himself on his feet, crouched, hand clenched in confusion; caught between trying to draw the bow that was lost to him and touching- No. No way. _The hell was that?_

Wind laughed at him, an old friend waiting for him to get the joke. And faded.

_No. No, no, no, that was_ not _what I think it was, I'm a_ Quincy-

Isshin cleared his throat. "Well! Think I promised you kids a story."

"Hollows," Karin demanded.

"Hollows?" Yuzu echoed, confused.

"In a bit, my sweet, precious, head-kicking daughter. Give your father a chance to build up to it. Where was I... ah! Three thousand years ago-"

"Hell of a build-up," Ichigo muttered, prying himself off the floor.

"Everything's better when you know the details," Isshin said virtuously. "Anyway, way, way, _way_ before anybody sitting at this table was born, the crater over _that_ way-" the doctor pointed roughly north, "-used to be Nara, capital of the kingdom of Joumon."

Ishida cast a quick glance down at Ichigo. Who was _listening_ , never mind his irritated frown. "That's not what our history books say," Ishida offered.

"History books!" Isshin waved off the whole library with a snap of his wrist. "People tell you history's written by the winners. I'll tell you something else: History's written by the _survivors_. And when the mind flayers under Nara realized they were losing big-time, and called meteors down out of the stars to obliterate their enemies - there weren't that many survivors."

"Mind flayers?" Yuzu shivered. "There used to be mind flayers in our kingdom?"

"Hate to say it, but there still are, deep underground," Isshin said soberly. "I don't know who knows, besides a few of the higher-ranked Watch officers; the bastards don't come up to the surface often, and they cover their tracks damn well. Their nests are so deep, the meteors never touched 'em. Joumon wasn't so lucky." He toyed with his cup, spinning painted porcelain. "But some people did make it. People who stumbled on shadow and truename magic, ways of shaping the worlds mind flayers never could figure out. People who'd been working against illithid manipulations for centuries, working with and fighting beside - and falling in love with - the eladrins who'd come to help beat back the forces of darkness."

"Eladrins?" Karin glanced around the table for answers.

"They're a race of celestial, usually associated with the elven pantheon," Ishida explained. "I don't know much about them… they're supposed to look a lot like elves, only human-tall, or larger, with glowing eyes. Bralani are supposed to favor the bow and scimitar, ghaele have a kind of holy longsword-"

"And their great lords, the tulani, can focus the energies of their souls to resist injuries and summon a blade of pure light. Among other things," Isshin added.

Ishida eyed him warily, noting with wry amusement that Ichigo's wary look from the floor was almost an exact echo. _He said that like it should mean something._ And - it almost did. But what?

"Long story short, when the rocks started blazing down, a small army of people were able to _plane shift_ out of there," Isshin went on. "Kind of an odd bunch, when they finally all got together and took stock. Some elvish folks, one or two giant-bloods, lots of dragonblood sorcerers… but mostly, half-eladrins and their families." The doctor paused. "And they called the plane they landed on… Tsukikage."

Ichigo grabbed his chair, sat down. "They were the shinigami?"

"Don't skip ahead," Isshin said tolerantly. "Now, celestial blood or not, they were still pretty much raised human. So soon as they got settled so nobody'd starve to death, they started arguing. Came down to two sides. One bunch wanted to stay in Tsukikage, where it was safe, and only send their best warriors back to Earth to fight the Hollows and look for the mind flayers' secret cities. The other-" Isshin stopped, just long enough to grin at Ishida. "Well, they wanted to move back to Earth permanently, and train _all_ their kids to take out Hollows."

Ishida stared at him.

"Family fights are always the worst," Isshin said seriously. "Shinigami and Quincys have been split up so long, most of them don't have a clue they used to be the same people. But your father knows. I'll talk to him."

"…You knew I was a shinigami," Ichigo managed, looking just as stunned as Ishida felt.

"Since the night Rukia-chan let you borrow her power," Isshin shrugged. "Soul Society says it's illegal for Earth natives other than Quincys to know Hollows even exist. That's why you had to go rescue her, remember? I didn't want to put you kids in that kind of danger. But if you got back here in one piece, son, you're official. They might not like you telling your family, but nobody's going to get executed over it." A wry, sad grin. "Besides. If there's enough of a mess in Tsukikage that they let a _ryoka_ stay a shinigami, it's going to be even worse here. I don't want you getting hurt because you're trying to hide what you do. Or who you are."

"Ichigo's a shinigami?" Yuzu looked between them both, wide-eyed. "How?"

"You can pester your brother about that while I'm gone," Isshin said easily. "Shouldn't take too long to get Ryuuken sloshed… er, talk to him."

Ishida tried to picture his prim, proper, ex-Quincy physician father drunk. And failed.

_Then again, Ichigo got me to follow him into Tsukikage. If_ anyone _could get Father to relax…._

"There's just two more things you need to know." Humor faded off Isshin's face, leaving it uncharacteristically sober. "Your mother was murdered by a Hollow. And Ichigo… it was _not_ your fault."

"How can you say that?" Ichigo's voice was barely above a whisper. "They go after people with shadow magic, even if it's just potential-"

" _And_ , they go after people with strong wills," Isshin cut him off. "All of you kids have that. And why not? I've got a head so hard it made Ryuuken cry… and your mother was a manifester."

Mass jaw-drop. "Mom was _psionic?_ " Karin managed.

"She would have been a target no matter what you did, Ichigo," Isshin nodded slowly. "We weren't going to tell you kids until she knew if any of you'd take after her…. Ryuuken warded the clinic for us, gave me those talismans I make you kids wear. But nothing's perfect." He moved around the table to rest his hands on his son's shoulders. "All she could fight with was her mind, up against a ghost warped to take out psionics. Among other things. And she still hurt it enough to save you." The comforting grip switched into a bear hug. "And you've been protecting your sisters and your classmates and even that cute little shinigami girl. Daddy's so proud!"

"Get _off_ me, you overgrown delinquent!"

"Want to help with the dishes, Ishida-kun?" Yuzu asked brightly.

"…Why not." Anything, to get him away from the third fistfight of the evening. Though a few minutes' observation went a long way toward explaining Ichigo's original fighting style.

_Looks like he comes by the impulsive brawling honestly. Just like-_

Ishida had to stop then, eyeing the red shimmer of shadow around his own hands. He'd felt his powers gutter out like a dying candle, fighting in Seireitei. Just as he could now feel… something… slipping into the aching emptiness left behind, like aloe on a burn.

_We were the same people?_

His father had never mentioned it. Never even hinted at it.

But if it were true… then maybe he didn't have to panic so much, about feeling oddly safer near that orange-haired idiot.

_We'll fix it. Tomorrow_ , Ishida told himself firmly, breathing a sigh of relief as the elder Kurosaki headed out to hunt down an angry ex-Quincy. Relief that quickly turned to a glance of shared dread with his classmate, as Yuzu and Karin bore down on them with a look as stubborn as Orihime rejecting mortal wounds.

_…If we survive tonight._


	2. Heart-Wounds and Explanations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shinigami training comes with homework. And sleepovers.
> 
> Or, Ishida is a very stubborn soul....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of Leslie Fish's "Hymn to the Night-Mare".

_So this is modern Karakura_ , Ukitake Jyuushirou thought, stepping through the portal into what was obviously a teenage boy's bedroom, for all its odd furnishings. _My, things have changed since the last time I went on patrol._

A young girl's gasp brought his attention back to the room's occupants, and a gray brow shot up in surprise. _She can see me?_

"Ukitake-taichou?" Ichigo blurted out, standing so he was between the shinigami captain and the other three in the room. "What's going on?"

_And he calls me captain, when he doesn't do that for anyone else_ , Jyuushirou noted, adding that to his growing store of odd observations about the ryoka who'd turned Soul Society upside-down. Though at the moment he was more concerned with what he could sense in this room: not one soul steeped in shadow magic, but _four_. And Ishida Uryuu's shadow-ribbon, instead of the powerless, tattered white shred it had been before they'd left Tsukikage, was- _Oh dear._ "I visit the quarters of every member of my division, Ichigo-kun."

"Huh?"

_Worse than I thought_ , Jyuushirou thought ruefully, meeting the black-haired girl's defiant look with a smile. _I'm glad I spoke with Rukia._ "Can all of you see me?"

"He's not a Hollow, is he?" The little blonde said hesitantly, clinging to Ishida. "He doesn't feel like… like the graveyard. But he doesn't feel like a ghost, either."

Well. That answered that. Jyuushirou touched his amulet, shifting to corporeal form. "Hello." He bowed to the girls. "I am Ukitake Jyuushirou, leader of the Thirteenth Division of the Royal Court Guards of Tsukikage. Your brother's captain."

_"…Huh?"_

"I'm Karin," the black-haired girl said warily.

"Yuzu," the blonde said shyly. "How did you know we were sisters? Ichigo said shinigami don't have kids."

"Most purified souls can't," Jyuushirou acknowledged, crouching slightly to meet their gaze. "Our noble families can." And the lesser nobility, like his own clan, were quick to adopt any shinigami who showed enough control of magic to be fertile. He was rather looking forward to watching the furor over the young Kurosaki, once Soul Society got over its collective shock. "I'm the oldest of eight. I have five younger brothers," he smiled warmly, "and two sisters."

"Only child," Ishida said awkwardly.

"Oh?" _That won't go well, then._ "I always felt lucky to be an older brother. My parents told me I was born first-"

"-To protect the little ones who came after," Ichigo finished.

Jyuushirou controlled his start, tucking that tidbit in with the growing pile. _He wouldn't have gotten that from Kisuke. Lady Shihouin, perhaps-_

And his white captain's haori was being soaked with tears, from a sniffling blonde who had _missed_ her big brother, she'd been so _worried_ , and _somebody_ her idiot brother would actually _listen_ to had better tell her that he was never, _ever_ going to do this again….

"Sorry," Ichigo mouthed at him, moving forward to try and pry her loose.

Jyuushirou waved him off, setting the pack he'd brought down and stealing a seat on Ichigo's bed to let Yuzu cry herself out. He might have been a captain longer than most kingdoms on this plane had existed, but he still knew what it was to be an older brother.

"Um," Karin started, as her sister wound down to hiccups.

"It's all right," Jyuushirou said quietly. "A lot of people were scared." _I know Shunsui and I were._ "We're trying to make sure nothing like this ever happens again." _Though with Aizen allying with githyanki… gods, things are only going to get worse._ "You're very brave, trusting your brother when your world has become so much larger. I know he fought very hard to come back to you."

"I'm not brave," Yuzu gulped. "Not like Ichi-nii and Karin."

_Ichi-nii?_ It wouldn't have been unusual to hear that in Soul Society, but he'd thought Karakura had abandoned such forms of address centuries ago. _Maybe they just have an old-fashioned relative. Or deal with elves who knew humans from back then._ Which would mean all his suspicions were only that; shadows, based on a mere coincidental resemblance.

_Not Kaien. Just a reflection… of how much I still miss him._

It hurt.

"Sometimes, it's harder to be the one who waits." Jyuushirou let her disentangle herself, casting a glance over them all. "Forgive me, but there's only so long I can be away from my division, and I need to talk to your brother about his patrols."

"Okay," Yuzu whispered, retreating with her sister.

Karin scowled; a younger mirror of her brother set on going through the nearest obstacle. "Don't think this lets either of you two off the hook. Questions. Tomorrow after school. _Be_ there."

"It was nice meeting you, Captain Ukitake," Yuzu smiled as they left, scrubbing tears from red eyes.

"Sleep well," Jyuushirou wished them in turn. Arched a brow once they were out of sight, as Ishida started to follow them. "And where do you think you're going?"

"Shinigami patrols aren't my problem."

_Gently. Gently._ "If you want to avoid falling into Kurotsuchi's grasp, they certainly are."

"I'm a _Quincy_."

_And sometimes, gentleness is not the answer._ "You're a shinigami who _was_ a Quincy. Twelfth Division would have a legitimate claim on you as an object of study to advance shinigami potential - and given we are likely looking at a war, I have my doubts that the Commander-General would object. _If_ they got to you first." The shinigami captain paused, deliberately. "If, however, you're on record as a member of Kurosaki Ichigo's nakama, then you are an associated member of the Thirteenth Division, and I have every right to protect you. Even if that entailed borrowing Zaraki-taichou and the Eleventh for a little unplanned urban renewal." Jyuushirou let a slightly wicked grin creep onto his face. "Those labs could use a good spring cleaning, don't you think?"

Ishida's lips were pressed into a thin, pale line. Ichigo barely seemed to glance toward him, before the orange-haired teen squared his shoulders and leveled an aggressive glare. "What do you mean, part of the Thirteenth? I never agreed to-"

Jyuushirou waved a finger. "Mystically speaking, you did." _Trying to distract me to protect your nakama. Oh, Kisuke; you still do such very good work._ "The badge is a symbol of provisional authority, vested in it by the Commander-General through the Thirteenth Division. You accepted it from me, the captain of that division. Which makes me _your_ captain." The mischief in Jyuushirou's smile softened. "Please try to understand. Soul Society has been… stable… for over two thousand years. Even though recent events have shown our laws can be twisted to do great harm-"

"If you can stick to the rules, you're gonna try," Ichigo said reluctantly. "If only to keep the old guy from keeling over from a stroke."

"I wouldn't put it that way," Jyuushirou said innocently. "But - well, yes." He looked past both of them, to a memory of shattering glasses. "Aizen knows us all too well. Yamamoto-Genryuusai _is_ old, and… very traditional. It wouldn't surprise me if Aizen's plans mean to take full advantage of that." He focussed on the young men again. "That's why I want you in my division. All of you, if you're willing. You can continue to protect Karakura - and it's well known my health prevents me from keeping as tight a rein on my people as would be expected of other captains. So if you needed to do something… unorthodox…."

Ichigo's eyes narrowed. "You know Urahara, don't you."

Jyuushirou had to laugh. "Before he escaped? Oh yes. I knew him _very_ well." He glanced at the silent former Quincy. "I take it that amulet is his work? I'd wondered how any of you managed to steal Twelfth Division uniforms-"

"We're getting it off tomorrow," Ishida said flatly.

"I see." _Sogyo no Kotowari?_

_The young ones are still too new to wish to draw my attention_ , the double-echo of Jyuushirou's zanpakutou murmured back. _Zangetsu is sheltering them. He says they are still in shock; that they were only whispers of possibility, until the children left our portal into this dimension._

A protective older brother. Like his wielder. _Urahara's work, then._

_Benihime is entirely too pleased with herself_ , Sogyo no Kotowari agreed.

Which meant Ishida was likely to find his goal far more difficult to reach than he imagined. "It would still be wise for me to register you as Ichigo's nakama, even as a Quincy," Jyuushirou stated. "We don't know if Aizen took all his sympathizers with him. If another legal challenge were raised, while Soul Society is already in such disarray - well." The captain shook his head. "At the least, Ishida-kun, it would cost us time. And I fear time may be all too precious, soon enough."

"Yeah," Ichigo said awkwardly. "So - patrols."

Jyuushirou inclined his head. "Technically, Karakura is already being patrolled. By Kurumadani Zennosuke; you can't miss the hair." The captain smiled wryly. "Try not to frighten him too badly. I don't know much about his record, which in itself suggests he's probably not very resilient when it comes to even lieutenant-level shadow magic."

"Um…."

"You have bankai," Jyuushirou reminded him. Remembering a conversation far too many decades ago, with another stubborn, wild-haired shinigami. _You have shikai now, you need to be more careful around the new recruits…._ "You're not near Zaraki-taichou's level of frightful presence, but if you have to use it, you may just end up knocking poor Kurumadani off a roof."

"He's not a dragon," Ishida muttered.

Well, of course not; most dragons native to Tsukikage tended to steer clear of Soul Society out of sheer self-preservation. Though Ichigo's nakama had probably torn through the area too fast to learn that piece of lore. "You were born with shadow magic yourself, Ishida-kun," the captain pointed out. "I'm not certain you realize how much it shields you." _And being part of Ichigo's nakama shields you even from the brunt of a captain's aura._ Benihime had good reason to be smug. Whatever Urahara had done, without that strength, none of the other Earth-born ryoka would have survived.

But that was something he didn't want the former Quincy thinking about too hard. Not yet. "As a substitute, you don't have an official patrol," Jyuushirou stated, eyes on Ichigo. "You are, however, expected to deal with any Hollow close enough to set off your badge. And given Kurumadani's abilities, if you or your nakama sense a Menos, or something worse-"

"Like that thing we ran into tonight?" Ichigo broke in.

"Thing?" Jyuushirou said warily.

Which triggered a rapid-fire description from the pair of them of something not githyanki or Hollow, but combining some of the worst aspects of either…. "Arrancar," he breathed.

"It has a name?" Ishida asked sharply.

"Barely," the captain acknowledged. "They're rare. Once in a century, perhaps, the mind flayers might capture a githyanki to sacrifice in a rite that creates an undead of even greater power than the oldest Hollow…."

Shared silence.

"Well," Jyuushirou said at last. "The Commander-General may still be incinerating pieces of landscape when your names come up, but I for one am very glad you are in my division." He bent down, drew the miniature bookcase out of the pack, and set it on Ichigo's desk. "And you're obviously going to need these sooner than I thought."

"Doll books?" Ichigo slipped one out of the top shelf - and almost dropped it, as the tome swelled to its true size and weight. "Hey!"

"A few centuries running a division - or a clan - makes for very large libraries," Jyuushirou observed, amused. "If we hadn't learned a few tricks, buildings would be collapsing from the sheer weight of books all over Seireitei."

"Introductory Kidou," Ishida murmured, scanning some of the titles. "Seireitei: the Five High Clans. Truenames, Theory and Utterance…."

"As one of my unseated officers pointed out, you have the duties of a shinigami, but not the education," Jyuushirou said practically. "I can't get you into the academy, but I believe you all have motivation to study on your own." Thinking of Rukia's more muttered comments on a certain stubborn orange-haired idiot with more power than sense, he added, "Though I would advise not experimenting with kidou without an experienced shinigami to supervise you. Not that _I_ would know where to find such a person in Karakura…."

_Yeah, right_ , said the paired skeptical glances aimed his way. "School, study, hunt Hollows, more study we're not even gonna get credit for…." Ichigo groaned.

Jyuushirou raised a brow, selecting one specific volume. "Blades of Limbo: Githyanki Arms and Tactics?"

"…Gimme that."

The captain allowed himself a silent snicker. Ah, to be young, and gleefully enthusiastic about wreaking wide swaths of destruction. Thank the gods he'd grown out of that.

…Well, mostly.

Ishida was leafing through some of the more plain-bound texts. "You may want these back. They look like someone's notes-"

"They are," Jyuushirou said shortly. Sighed, and shook his head. "Forgive me. Those used to belong to a friend. I think he would be glad to know they helped another shinigami." A sad smile crossed his face. "Kaien also had a great deal of shadow magic, and a difficult time learning to control it. If anyone's advice might help, his would."

"What happened to him?" Ichigo asked quietly.

"One of Aizen's Hollows," Jyuushirou said bluntly. "Years ago. Before you were born. But I still miss him." He gave them a steady smile. "And there are a few other items in here you might find useful. Preferably-" he took one flickering step forward, brushing shadow over a stubborn forehead, "-after a good night's sleep."

Ichigo caught the dark-haired boy as he sagged. "You- he- damn it, he's going to kill me when he comes to…."

"As I said, I can't bring you to the academy, but there's one part of those years you truly shouldn't miss," Jyuushirou said brightly, helping his orange-haired subordinate lay Ishida on the bed. "Someday Shunsui should tell you about the fights we used to have, before we admitted how well our magics matched."

"He doesn't want to be a shinigami!"

Jyuushirou gave him a level look. "He'd like being powerless against the Hollows even less."

Ichigo's fists clenched.

"Kurotsuchi hasn't discussed the fight at all, but Nemu was able to provide me with some details," the captain went on. "If you'd had more training in sensing magic past your own, you would have noticed it yourself… Ishida won. But it cost him." Carefully, he touched the sleeping teen's amulet. "So long as your soul holds your amulet intact, a shinigami's powers _will_ return. Eventually. When a Quincy's burn out like that… they _don't_."

Ichigo's shoulders slumped. "So what can I do?"

"Help your nakama," Jyuushirou said simply. "If anyone knows how to restore Quincy powers, Urahara will. Until you can determine that - you're one of us, Ichigo-kun. You'll know what to do."

Something faint brushed the edges of his senses; Jyuushirou controlled his start. "If you find you need other sources of lore, ask Lady Shihouin. Her contacts are slightly less… questionable." He smiled wryly. "Pranks have their place, and I know Kisuke likes to sharpen his students' wits by leaving traps around, but given how many books I've picked up half asleep or half dead, I do think there are limits." Bowing, he shifted back to incorporeal form, and stepped out the window. "Sleep well."

A few steps brought him down and around to the side of the Kurosaki Clinic, where the faintest of red shadow-ribbons led. "Show yourself!"

A soft, corporeal footfall. A white coat thrown on over a lurid red flower-print shirt, and unruly black hair over faint stubble and a manic grin. "Cute kids, huh?"

The captain of the Thirteenth Division stared at an impossibility, breath quickening. "…You're dead."

"Long time no see to you too, Shirou-chan." A sly wink. "So how are the kids doing? Uryuu looked a little shaky when I left, though I think I got his dad talked down. Mostly. Or at least, he ought to be too hung over tomorrow to shoot straight-"

"You're _dead_." Jyuushirou felt the seizing in his chest, tried to fight it back. This couldn't be who it looked like, which meant this was a trick of the enemy's. Somehow. "Gin brought your body b-back…."

Strong hands caught his shoulders, incorporeal or not, as the first coughs wracked him. An impossibly familiar voice swore, then whispered a soft command that set a citrine bauble glowing through his coat pocket-

The burn in his lungs eased. Jyuushirou swallowed, no longer tasting blood. Risked the impossible. "…Isshin?"

"Around here, they call this an _amulet of emergency healing_." Shiba Isshin grinned at him, one finger wrapped in the citrine's silver chain. "Not sure if it'd work on Tsukikage, but it's a lifesaver here."

"But I _saw_ -" Jyuushirou cut himself off, thinking back on that awful day, over thirty years ago. "Aizen. Aizen was with Gin, when he had your body… what looked like your body…."

"What I figured, once the search got called off." Isshin shrugged, serious for once. "If it helps, I damn near was dead. Arrancar cracked my zanpakutou, shattered my amulet… hadn't been for Ryuuken, I'd've been one munched shinigami." He smiled wryly. "Kind of wish I'd been able to tell Rukia-chan she wasn't alone. I know how scary it is, trying to pass for human when all you've got is your best guess on how things work and a couple shreds of kidou to protect yourself."

"But…." Jyuushirou plucked a shadow-ribbon from air, one brow arched. Disguised or not, it was definitely the full power of a shinigami captain.

"Kisuke," Isshin said simply. "Make a new amulet for somebody we both know? Might've been noticed. Make one for Kurosaki Isshin? Just another one of Ichigo's nakama, and Kisuke was already hiding that."

The implications made Jyuushirou pale. "You've been powerless for _thirty years?_ "

"Pretty much." The doctor shook his head. "Arrancar did a lot of damage. Without Ichigo shedding magic like dragon scales, I don't think even Kisuke could've put me back together." Isshin grinned, and spread arms for a hug. "Good to see you!"

_He's here. He's real._ Shaking slightly, Jyuushirou embraced his younger friend. "Gods, your grandfather's going to-"

"Not hear anything about this," Isshin said sternly, pulling back just enough to look the elder captain in the eye. "Think about it, 'Shirou. Ichigo's official now, just barely - and I can guess who argued hard enough to keep the old man from just frying my kid. If word got out it wasn't just some no-name Earth-born ryoka who broke up a lawful execution, but _Shiba Isshin's_ son…."

"A noble must not only avoid dishonor, but avoid even the appearance of impropriety," Jyuushirou sighed.

"Bingo." Isshin took a step back, stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Once I'd been stuck here a month, knew I wouldn't be able to go back." He looked up at the stars, smiling slightly. "Eh, wasn't so bad. Lot less rules here to worry about, Kisuke takes me out on the town once a week or so… and I fell in love with a woman who left me three tough, stubborn, wonderful kids." The smile regained its manic edge. "Who are going to give Seireitei all _kinds_ of headaches, just you wait!"

"We missed you, too," Jyuushirou admitted, heart sinking. _How can I tell him?_ "How much do you know about what Ichigo did in Seireitei?"

"Oh, you never know," Isshin said casually. "Could be a certain Lady of Flash we both know just might have kept up to date with what's left of the Shiba clan. Just in case my lovely firecracker of a cousin should have to track down a couple kids who'd probably end up konsou'd after they died."

_So that's why Kuukaku showed up. She knew Ichigo was of her clan all along._ Which meant the resemblance to Kaien - was only that. Surprising, how much that hurt. "They don't seem as if they'd have the kind of unfinished business that would leave them as lingering souls," Jyuushirou observed.

"Probably not. But powers or no powers, their Dad's still native to Tsukikage," Isshin said seriously. "Kisuke was surprised as hell once he got a look at the little squallers, but - they're my kids, 'Shirou. They take after Masaki a lot more than they know, but their spirits aren't going anywhere 'til one of us steps in and gives 'em a push."

The white-haired captain blinked. "So when Rukia loaned Ichigo her amulet-"

"It did exactly what it's supposed to do: lock onto a new shinigami and blast him open to shadow magic." Isshin grinned. "Guess we're just lucky he never tried to call a hell butterfly, or you'd have had one surprised substitute shinigami fall through the portal into your division headquarters. 'Course, he ended up part of your division anyway…."

Jyuushirou swallowed dryly, recognizing the opening for what it was. It didn't matter that he was at least a millennium older; Isshin could read people better than anyone short of Kisuke. "Kuukaku… didn't see all of the fight."

"Yeah?"

"At one point, Ichigo and Byakuya faced off... he told Ichigo he wouldn't ask about it, but I _am_ Ichigo's captain…." Gods. How did you tell your friend his son had written his own death warrant? "Isshin - Ichigo's a Vaizard."

Isshin nodded. "What'd he do?"

Jyuushirou stared, eyes wide. "What did he- Isshin, this is serious! If Yamamoto-"

"If Yama-ji finds out Ichigo can manifest, he'll kill him," Isshin finished for him. "If Yama-ji finds out Ichigo's my son, he'll kill him. If Yama-ji finds out at least two of my kids take after their mother - and heck, Karin might too, she's still young - we'll _all_ be wiped off the map. Yeah. I know. Why do you think I tried so hard to hide us?"

"Their mother?" Jyuushirou managed, mind reeling. Isshin… wasn't terrified? Wasn't even surprised? "What… how…?"

The doctor's smile was sad, and proud. "You know, it took me a month running into Masaki before I figured out she was doing it on purpose? I was the only nice guy she'd ever met that she couldn't read. Think she halfway fell for me just 'cause of that." He shrugged slightly. "She was what people around here call a Diamond Dragon. Human as anybody, but she could read minds, and objects; used to do a lot of work with our local Watch. They loved her to bits, too; sweet little lady they didn't have to protect, 'cause when something turned nasty and tried to eat her, she just shimmered telekinesis into claws and wings and shredded it right back." Black eyes met brown, unusually sober. "He's my Masaki's son, Jyuushirou. I don't care what the law is. He's my son, he's a good shinigami, and he's going to be a better one. They want to execute him, they're going to have to come through me. Gods, 'Shirou, he hasn't _done_ anything. Yet," Isshin added belatedly, a little red creeping into his cheeks. "Permanent, at least. I mean, you said Byakuya told you what happened…."

"He was in Byakuya's mind," Jyuushirou said, trying not to shudder at the very thought. "He… _froze_ Byakuya, long enough to cut him. He could have taken the control even further…."

"But he didn't."

"No," the captain admitted. "But he could have. He wanted to. Byakuya said he'd never felt such anger; at us, at our laws, at anything that would hurt Rukia. He was a breath away from taking Byakuya's will completely."

"He stopped."

"By luck, and you know it," Jyuushirou said soberly. "When he realized what he was doing. Isshin, you know what Vaizards are. It might be a year, it might be a century; one of these days it'll happen again, and-" He couldn't say it.

"I know what Vaizards are _in Tsukikage_ ," Isshin said flatly. "Wild talents. Shinigami we throw out and hunt down, 'cause they've cracked the wall that keeps psionics out of our minds, and a mind flayer could use 'em to hopscotch right across all of our barriers. We hunt them down, and we put them down, like you'd put down a mad dog. 'Cause by the time we realize something's wrong with them, they _are_ crazy; twisted up by their own powers, because we've got _no trained manifesters to teach them_." He took a deep breath, and turned a determined, pleading gaze on his old friend. "Jyuushirou… there _are_ teachers here."

The shinigami captain brushed white hair out of his eyes, trying to think. To let a Vaizard live - more than that, to deliberately try to train one - it went against everything Soul Society stood for. The Commander-General would kill anyone who even breathed the thought-

"Aizen," Jyuushirou found himself whispering, "would never expect that."

"'Course not," Isshin snorted. "After all, he's the almighty Lone Vaizard who pulled the wool over everybody's eyes all the way up to being Captain of the Fifth Division." A Jyuushirou's shocked flinch, Isshin shoved his hands back in his pockets and looked at the older shinigami askance. "How the hells did you think he pulls off perfect hypnosis? We're _shinigami_. Magical charms drip off us like mud in rain. Psionic hypnosis, though - once his shikai gets past our resistance, and Kisuke's pretty sure that's just what it does - he's _got_ us."

Aizen. Was a Vaizard. It made altogether too much sense. "Yama-ji is not going to like this," Jyuushirou said faintly.

"He'll throw a fit, like he always does," Isshin said dryly. "Rage and burn a few buildings down and expect all the rest of us to pick up the pieces. Like always." The doctor shook his head. "Don't get me wrong. I miss the old man, too."

_But it's hard, knowing he'd destroy your children_ , Jyuushirou finished silently. "We need him now more than ever. The Council of 46 is dead. Without a stable leader for our people-" He shook his head.

"Which is part of the problem right there," Isshin pointed out. "The old man's _not_ a leader of our people. He's the commander of the shinigami."

True. Painfully so. Yamamoto-Genryuusai didn't care if you were noble-born or not, so long as you had power. If you didn't - well, it was the shinigami's duty to protect the people of Rukongai from Hollows, and other extraplanar enemies. And the Commander-General never shirked his duties.

_But we could do so much more._

"But you can't exactly ask an exile what to do about that mess," Isshin said easily, heading for the clinic. "You up for sticking around another half-hour or so? I want to see how Retsu's been keeping you."

Jyuushirou's brows climbed, but he followed. "It's only been thirty years, Isshin. You know Retsu. Unohana-taichou always puts the best efforts of the Fourth Division into containing my illness."

"Exactly!" Isshin bounced up to the glass doors. "Healing kidou. Great stuff. But it's not medicinal alchemy." He cast a glance over his shoulder as he undid the lock. "Or has anybody from the Twelfth escaped to work under Retsu lately?"

"Well, no," Jyuushirou admitted. And it certainly wasn't as if he had any plans to walk into the Twelfth's labs with less than a full division behind him. The last time Kurotsuchi had tried to talk him into Mayuri's idea of treatment, the man had mentioned grafts of aboleth skin and merman lungs, among other things. How Mayuri intended to get the raw materials for something like that - some things, Jyuushirou slept better not thinking about.

"I'm not promising anything," Isshin said soberly, locking back up behind them. "But I've been at this a good long time, by human standards, and I'm not bad. Can't hurt to look, right?"

"Sometimes, hope hurts," Jyuushirou said softly, following him through the small waiting area.

Isshin glanced back. "Thought he was Kaien, didn't you."

"As Yama-jii always said," the elder shingami sighed. "Our eyes can deceive us. We can't always trust them."

"Eyes, maybe," Isshin shrugged, waving him in to an examining table. "But you should listen better to your heart, 'Shirou."

_Not funny, Isshin. I-_ Jyuushirou blinked, and looked again. _He's not laughing._

"I always liked kids, even little red squashed ones," Isshin said ruefully. "I held my cousin after he was born, 'Shirou. Both times."

Numb, Jyuushirou sat down on the clean sheet over the table. "You're sure."

"I whispered my truename to him while Masaki held him, and I felt him echo it back," Isshin said seriously. "You can't miss your nakama, Jyuushirou."

"But he _can't_ be…."

"Why not?" Isshin said practically. "We die, we're reborn here. And he had a lot of people he died trying to protect. Why wouldn't he try to find us again, if he could?" He smiled fondly. "Explains my son's screwy shadow magic, that's for sure. Until Ichigo finds that part of his own truename, a lot of his kidou's going to go up like fireworks. Hopefully not in his face."

"…Urk."

"He's not Kaien anymore," Isshin stated, unwrapping a black cloth from the glowing end of a small wand. "But he still trusts you. And you can trust him to do what's right. No matter what." He flourished the glowing rod. "Now, say ah!"

* * *

 

 

He'd been born to be a warrior. A big brother. A friend. One who protected.

But sometimes, even the best warrior needed reinforcements.

"Ichigo!"

With a squawk, his wielder appeared.

Perched on his flagpole, Zangetsu smirked as the young shinigami's feet found purchase on empty air. Just the slightest lean forward and up, and Ichigo was standing solidly on the sideways skyscraper, only wincing a little at the way his mindscape's gravity kept tugging at him.

_He does learn. Eventually._

"Old man," Ichigo said with fond roughness. "Figures. I should have come down here first."

"Instead of trying to deal with Uryuu's difficulties yourself?" Behind an amber lens, Zangetsu lifted a dark brow. "We work best together when you've defined the knot of the problem first, so I can help you cut through it."

"The _problem,_ " Ichigo grumbled, walking up the wall to him, "is that he's an idiot Quincy with that pain in the butt Quincy _honor_ that'd rather die than shift tactics a little-" Ichigo stopped, and turned, cupping an ear to better catch sounds blown on the wind. "The hell's that?"

"Why I called you." Zangetsu held out a hand. "Come."

Trusting as when he'd first seized a spirit's hilt, Ichigo took it.

The distance should have taken them a long time to cover; his shinigami's mind had a quite solid landscape, and they were venturing near the very edge of it. Fortunately, his wielder saw no contradiction in using flash-steps, even here.

"Slow, now," Zangetsu murmured as they approached a clearing before the edge of the mists. "We don't want to startle them."

"Them?" Ichigo almost growled, but kept it down to a mutter. "Are you saying there's somebody else _in my head?_ "

"I did not think you would deny them shelter."

Ichigo opened his mouth to protest, loudly-

Stopped, and frowned instead, eyes closing as he reached out with his senses. And snapping open in surprise. "That's-"

"Gently," Zangetsu murmured. "We felt them born, this very night. Gently."

Determined, his shinigami nodded, and moved forward, steps deliberately loud. "Hey."

Purring, violet-feathered wings and tabby paws pounced him.

"…You must be Orihime's." Levering himself up against the lynx-sized weight on his chest, Ichigo scratched behind the delighted tressym's ears. "Feeling better?"

Zangetsu smiled as the winged cat tried to rub silvery tabby fur all over Ichigo's shihakushou. No question that this one, at least, knew whose nakama she wanted to belong to.

Cradling her in one arm, Ichigo got back to his feet, and nodded to a white-winged elf in the shimmering armor of a sky-born paladin. "You're with Chad?"

A slight nod.

"…Right." Ichigo grinned wryly. "Wouldn't expect you to be chatty. Which just leaves-"

Cold wind knifed through the mists, bitter with blood.

"-And that would be our problem," Ichigo said, not missing a beat.

"Is it?" Zangetsu said levelly. "Think carefully. What were your plans, in regards to us?"

_Us?_ Ichigo mouthed at him, eyes widening in belated realization. "Oh, shit."

A fluffy tail smacked his face.

"Your nakama," Zangetsu went on, deliberate as the opening strike in a duel, "is more than those embodied souls human eyes can see. If you wish to act in the best interests of all of us, you must consider… _all_ of us."

Ichigo kept stroking fur, bringing the miffed tressym back to a quieter purr. "How do you know all this?"

"I'm part of your soul, Ichigo. I know what you know." Zangetsu let a slight smirk shadow his face. "And what you don't know you know. Yet."

"You taking up Sandal-hat's riddles?" Ichigo asked warily.

"You'll learn the answers," Zangetsu assured him. "When you're ready."

Ichigo glared at him.

Another blood-scented chill cut through, and the shinigami sighed. "Oh yeah, this is going to be fun… um. Guys-" Brown eyes bugged out as claws sank in. "Okay, okay, guys and lady!"

Mollified, the tressym trilled at him.

"Anyway," Ichigo grumbled, setting her down with a scowl, "you know how… private Uryuu is."

Zangetsu hid his smile. Not a _stuck-up, stubborn,_ or _thick-headed idiot_ to be heard. His shinigami _was_ capable of tact. Sometimes.

"I'm just saying, it might be easier on the guy if just Zangetsu an' me go after him," Ichigo got out in a rush. "He won't want to lose it in front of you, or throw a punch, even if the idiot really _needs_ to-"

Ah well. It'd been pleasant while it lasted.

"-So do you think you can find your way home okay? I mean, I don't mind if you want to come back later…."

Zangetsu stepped up behind his floundering shinigami's shoulder, nodding to the uncertain spirits before them. "There will always be refuge here, should you need it. But be brave, and patient. They, too, are young." He met a cat-green gaze. "I believe you have Shun Shun Rikka to pounce on." He shifted his glance to the winged warrior. "And you, armor to test."

The aura of trepidation lightened to interest, and dawning anticipation. With a sandpaper rasp of cat-tongue across Ichigo's fingers, they vanished.

Ichigo shook his head, whistling. "Can everybody's zanpakutou just zap in and out like that?"

"It's somewhat more complicated than _zap_ , but - yes," Zangestu nodded. "The shadows reflect all things, and so shadow magic connects all shinigami souls. So long as you have not marked one as your enemy, we can speak to one another."

"So… what about Aizen's?"

Zangetsu's fists clenched. "Aizen, Gin, Tousen - they are our enemies. I know their spirits' signs. They will _not_ be allowed here." Deliberately, he relaxed. "And they would be unwise to attempt it. This is your mind. A visit here is an act of trust."

"Probably why Uryuu's sword isn't coming out," Ichigo groused. "Let's go find her-" His mind caught up with his mouth, and Ichigo stared at his zanpakutou. "How do I know it's a _her?_ "

Zangetsu shrugged, and set out on the invisible trail of chill and copper. A trail that soon became all too visible, in scattered hailstones; black ice frozen around drops of blood.

"Aw, no," Ichigo muttered under his breath as they picked up the pace. "No, no, no-"

She was still breathing when they found her.

Ichigo didn't blink at hail-combs in pine-branch hair, the ominous bone staff, or the princess' robes woven with all the hues of storm wind; just dropped to his knees by her shivering body, applying trained pressure to the seeping wound on her chest. "What's going on? Who hurt her?"

"He's rejecting her." Zangetsu knelt as well, sharing power and the warmth of sanctuary with a firm grasp on her shoulder. _So cold._ "Hold on, storm-born lady. Hold on…."

"Listen to him," Ichigo said fiercely, pinning storm-gray eyes with brown. "You're _not_ going to die… damn it, where's Rukia with healing kidou when you need her!"

"You've listened when Rukia healed you," Zangetsu reminded him.

"Yeah, lots of times, but you know I'm no good with kidou! Almost got us all killed just trying to hold that shield spell in the cannon-"

"I know," Zangetsu said deliberately, "what you don't know you know."

Ichigo froze. Looked up at him, eyes wide. "…Help?"

Zangetsu placed his hands over his shinigami's, feeling the pulse of wind and tree and storm. "Say it with me. Lady of storms-"

: _Zanpakutou-  
_ : _Soul of Ishida Uryuu-  
_ : _One of our nakama-  
_ : _Be healed._ :

The familiar green glow shimmered from their hands, sinking into spirit-flesh like water. The bloody gash sealed, leaving a thin pink scar.

"It will hold, for now," Zangetsu judged. "But he will wound her again, if he continues to tear at his own soul."

Shyly, Ichigo tugged up her torn robes, then scrambled away with a blush as she leveled a haughty glare at him. "Is that what's happening? He's hurting you, 'cause he thinks he ought to hurt himself?"

Her gaze flickered, and she looked away.

_Not quite the truth_ , Zangetsu judged, and felt from the shift of Ichigo's attention that he knew it too. _But she wishes us to think it is. Why?_

Then again, this was Ishida's partner they were dealing with. The boy hid his motives. Even from himself.

"Yeah. Fine." Ichigo brushed off his knees, and dusted off his hands, determination settling on his face. "C'mon, old man. We've got a Quincy ass to kick."

Her eyes snapped to him, sharp as ice rain.

"Whoa! Not going to _hurt_ him. Much. Just - you know. Get his _attention_."

The chill eased. Slightly. With relief, Zangetsu noted that the crackling static seeping through the air also died down, leaving his hair tossed by wind once more. "Venturing into another's mindscape is dangerous," he reminded his wielder.

"So?"

Indeed. Zangetsu inclined his head, and bowed formally to the storm-spirit. "Gracious lady. May we escort you home?"

After a long moment, she nodded.

* * *

 

Lightning in the winds. Freezing rain sleeting down, thieving heat from bleeding hands and body, riming black hair into windswept strands of ice. Chill that almost numbed the taste of blood in his mouth, even as it bit deeper at forearms and thighs and the awful grating pain piercing his left shoulder.

And worst of all, the blur that meant his glasses were nowhere to be found.

Blinking to crack the thin layer of ice binding his eyelids closed, Ishida squinted at the icy thorn vines binding him to the trunk of a massive pine. No doubt of it; they'd gotten thicker.

_Don't know how I ended up here… but somehow, some way, this_ has _to be Kurosaki's fault._

Thorns tightened.

Ishida hissed. Gathered his will, and breathed through the pain, mentally damning Ichigo and every other shinigami who'd interfered with his life to a thousand icy torments. This wasn't quite like being paralyzed by Kurotsuchi's blade. He could still breathe; still move, just a little. But being bound here, unable to do anything to save himself as his life froze away….

And if he could move one hand - just one! - he could snap a spark from the fire-starting kit some sadist had left by his side, and ignite dry branches protected by the tree's own outer casing of ice into a blaze to save himself. If he could just push past the thorns, just a little-

_Not fair. This is just - not fair._

Thorns trembled.

Suddenly suspicious, Ishida held still. _If that Ukitake had anything to do with this, I'm going to have to-_

A blast of ice, and tightening pain.

_I am_ not _going to die this way!_

Loosening. Not enough to breathe easily, or free his hands, but the vines were definitely looser.

"The hell?" came a familiar, confused voice.

"Oh, yes," Ishida got out through clenched teeth. "Just what I needed to complete a perfect night." He leveled a cool look toward the blur of orange over black. "It's some kind of coercive enchantment. Likely cast by your captain, Kurosaki. It likes shinigami, and it doesn't like me when I don't."

"Think you might be blaming the wrong guy," Ichigo said cautiously, treading nearer. "Or am I crazy?"

"No more so than usual," said the black blur of a longhaired stranger, voice oddly warm with amusement. "He does not take the easy path. And you are not making it any easier, storm-lady."

_I will not be held by a coward!_

A third blur resolved, impossible detail clear as the pine-haired woman strode forward. Ishida blanched, seeing the living incarnation of Nightmare a forgotten minder had sung to haunt a motherless child's sleep.

_…With her thigh-bone staff and her white skull globe,_  
_With her cyclone crown and her storm-cloud robe,_  
_With her red-black eyes that no light can probe,  
_ _When more than a few must die…._

"You think he's a coward?" Ichigo snorted. "And he calls _me_ crazy!"

_He hid while Hollows slew his grandfather!_

"He was a kid! You think his grandfather'd want him to die?"

_He failed to destroy the monster of a shinigami responsible!_

"Kurotsuchi?" Ichigo didn't hesitate. "I wasn't there. He was protecting Orihime. I _know_ he made the right call."

_He lies!_

"…You're gonna have to be a little more specific," Ichigo said warily. "We all lie about something."

_Why do you defend him?_ Ice-wind snapped and snarled.

"Good question," Ishida muttered, eyes closing in resignation as he sagged against barbed ice. "I'm not-"

"Don't you _ever_ say you're not worth it!" Ichigo's arm was a hot bar against his chest, pressing between him and the worst of the thorns. "You protect people. You stop Hollows. You tell us when we're all about to be idiots. And you never let _anything_ stop you." Brown eyes narrowed. "So why the hell are you letting this?"

"I lied," Ishida whispered. "About the shinigami."

Even the wind was silent.

"I want to hate you all," he went on, dragging the words out like barbed wire. "You killed all of my people, and my grandfather _still_ wanted to help you, and you let him die…."

Silence. But warmer now. Had Kurosaki moved to block the wind? Typical. If he froze, it was his own fault.

"But you… you kept fighting the Hollows, when it wasn't even your war. And Rukia - she had to know what the law would do to her. But she helped you anyway, because she believed Hollows should never destroy any more lives. And Renji, Yoruichi-san, Ukitake-taichou, who protected ryoka even from the captains because it was the right thing to do…." Uryuu slumped against warm black silk. "I want to hate you, so much."

"I hate Grand Fisher," Ichigo said quietly. "He killed my mother. Tried to kill my sisters, and me. I won't sleep easy until that bastard's been pulverized and sent back to hell." He took a deep breath. "But I don't hate all Hollows that way. Not after I had to deal with Orihime's brother. They're monsters. They've got to be stopped. But - not all of 'em asked for it."

Ishida blinked water off his eyelashes. That wasn't just the wind stopping. It was warmer. Just a little.

"So hate Kurotsuchi," Ichigo went on. "Hate Yamamoto-Genryuusai, and the Council of 46; they gave the order, and he for damn sure carried it out. Hate all of Seireitei if you have to. But Rukia? Renji? Hanatarou? They weren't even konsou'd when the massacre happened. Hell, for all we know, they could've _been_ Quincys before a shinigami got to 'em. Did you think of that, wise guy?"

Ishida's mouth dropped open, before he shut it. That some of the shinigami could have been - no. He'd never even considered it.

_But we would be souls with unfinished business, already strong in shadow magic… oh gods._

"Hate the ones you've got to," Ichigo summed up. "But 'I hate shinigami'? Come on. That's like saying 'I hate humans', or 'I hate orcs'. What about Chad?"

Damn it, he had a point. Ishida would trust Chad with his life. Had done exactly that. Which was more than he could say for most people, human or otherwise.

"And for goodness' sake, don't hate yourself." Ichigo rolled his eyes. "Jerk."

_Why should he not?_ Thunder rumbled in an angry wind. _He allowed another to destroy his honor!_

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard!"

"But I did," Ishida whispered, ashen. "I'm not a Quincy anymore."

"Says who?"

Ishida glared at him. " _Who_ pulled a red shadow-ribbon out of my aura?"

"So?" Ichigo glanced over his shoulder, where the blur of friendly stranger seemed to nod. "Doesn't change anything."

"You _are_ insane."

"What, 'cause I listen to you? 'I am the last of the Quincy.' 'For the honor and pride of the Quincy, I will defeat you.' Your honor is _yours_ , Uryuu. Nobody else can touch it. Maybe a shinigami's _what_ you are. But a Quincy's _who_ you are." Ichigo glared at the ice biting into them both. "You tell me. How would a Quincy get out of this?"

Stupid question. He'd just tell these vines-that-weren't to- : _Break._ :

Ice shattered.

Stunned, Ishida let Ichigo haul him to his feet. Reached out a shaking hand to a pile of dry branches. : _Burn._ :

Flames crackled, driving the chill from his flesh.

A swish of storm-static and silk, and the nightmare princess took his hand, thorn-scarred as her own; wounded as he was, bleeding as he had bled. "I am storm. I am terror. I am lightning in the midst of our foes. I have no mercy; not for you, not for our enemies. For I am of you - and we are _Destroyers_." Storm-gray eyes glowed, blazing to nightmare red-black. "Name yourself!"

"I am - _Ishida Uryuu_."

: _Quincy.  
_ : _Destroyer.  
_ : _Shinigami._ :

It staggered him; three hands kept him standing. He breathed, and blinked, wondering what had happened to his vision, everything here was so _clear_. Kurosaki, the dark-haired stranger in amber sunglasses and Kurosaki's tattered bankai coat, the storm-robed princess-

His princess. His nightmare. His will to destroy his enemies.

Oh gods, she was beautiful.

"Flatterer." Charcoal as thunderclouds, full lips bent in a smile, and eyes faded back to saner gray. "I love you too, my Uryuu." Her face turned stern again. "But we are creatures of shadow magic, and you know what our power requires. We bare our souls to the universe to make it hear us. Without courage, without resolve - we _both_ will break."

"But that resolve," the stranger observed, "need not always be only your own. If your will falters - and we all falter, at times - your nakama stand ready to aid you."

_Kurosaki's bankai coat…._ "Zangetsu?"

The dark-haired spirit inclined his head.

_Kurosaki's sword is holding me up._ Somewhere, somehow, he was going to have a nice nervous breakdown about this. Later. Ishida turned to his nightmare lady. "And you're…."

She murmured something.

He shook his head. "Sorry, I didn't-"

"Later," she said, not unkindly, and tapped his forehead. _"Wake."_

Darkness swallowed him-

And spit him out, to the saner, ordinary darkness of Ichigo's bedroom, where a lack of glasses put the dark back into familiar blurs, and warm breath feathered his hair.

Eyes narrowed, Ishida braced his elbow, and shoved.

"Ow!" One brown eye half-opened as Ichigo scrabbled on the edge of the bed; the orange-haired shinigami blinked, and resettled himself onto one half of the mattress with a huff. "'S my bed, Quincy."

"You're still an idiot, Kurosaki." But he couldn't quite be as angry with the other shinigami as he should be. "At least you come by it honestly."

"Laugh while you can," Ichigo grumbled sleepily. "You're gonna have to live with it 'til Dad thinks it's safe for you to go home."

Ishida rolled his eyes. "I've been living on my own for years."

"No wonder you're so messed up." Not even looking, Ichigo grabbed his shoulder, and dragged him back to the middle of the bed.

"Hey!"

"My Dad," Ichigo said, somehow managing to sleep-mumble with perfect clarity, "is a nut. But he's a nut who cares about people, and he thinks you need a dad around." A yawn. "Gotta admit… way we usually get cut up… lot easier to have somebody else around to help tie bandages. And come up with better stories than 'I fell down the stairs'."

"I am not staying another night in this- this-"

"Circus? Loony bin? Mad alchemist's lab masquerading as a clinic?" Ichigo's toothy grin glinted in the dark. "You keep telling yourself that. Then tell Dad. I'll watch." A full-body shrug. "Then I'll help you move in…."

"Oh, no," Ishida growled, seizing Ichigo's collar. "You are _not_ going to sleep on me after that!"

"Who said sleep?" Ichigo muttered, breaths taking on the slow rhythm of trance. "I'm goin' visiting."

* * *

 

In her decades of partnership with Sode no Shirayuki, Kuchiki Rukia had seen many strange things within her own mind. A thundering waterfall, pouring down torrents of diamond ice. The stillness of winter dawn, with the Northern Lights still dancing. A snow-furred fox, red chicken in her jaws, barking laughter as she outran leaping black hounds.

Yet for all its strangeness, her mindscape was usually predictable. Quiet. Cool. Full of hidden secrets.

_"Augghhh!" Thump!_ Did not fit. Not at all.

"…Ow."

Sleek beside her in feathery white fur, Sode no Shirayuki closed eyes gold as icicles in the dawn. "Not again."

"Again?" Rukia scrambled through the snow toward low swearing. Familiar swearing. But it couldn't be. "Ichigo?"

Rising to his feet from a very large dent in a snowdrift, Ichigo brushed flakes out of orange hair. "Hey."

Irrational. Impossible. Insane. It had to be Ichigo. "What in the gods' names do you think you're _doing?_ "

A too-casual shrug. "What, can't a guy check up on a friend?"

"Not here!"

"Oh. Um. Kinda private, right." Ichigo scratched his head, shrugged. "Sorry, just wanted to make sure your p- ah, your brother was treating you right-"

"No!" She kicked him in the shins. For an impossibility, he certainly _felt_ real. "I _mean_ , you can't be here! It's not possible!"

"Why?" A tall, dark-haired stranger in amber glasses and a familiar tattered coat, striding over snow without leaving a footprint behind. "Where I go, can my shinigami not follow?"

It was on the tip of Rukia's tongue to tell Zangetsu - it _had_ to be Zangetsu, so that's where Ichigo had gotten that ragged monster of a coat - that no, _no_ shinigami could follow their zanpakutou into another's mindscape. Every first-year Academy student knew that-

But then, Ichigo had never been to the Academy.

"Anyway, we can't stay long, Zangetsu says you're really far-"

"Oh, really?" Rukia gave him her most wickedly innocent look. "Do you think I would have survived two months in your world if my brother's zanpakutou could find me a dimension away?"

"…Oh." He had the grace to look sheepish, behind the usual scowl. "Just thought you'd like to know I finally took out a Hollow the way you always wanted."

_Above and from behind, so it doesn't see you coming_ , Rukia translated. "Was it a night for miracles, or did someone concuss you before the fight?"

"Well, excuse me for not playing fair with something that smacked down Ishida!" he fired back. "Idiot! Why didn't he tell us he'd burned out his powers? We let him walk home thinking everything was fine; if I hadn't-"

"What?" Rukia asked warily, as the silence stretched out.

"…Never mind. It was weird." Ichigo smirked. "Think I got him and his zanpakutou talking, though. Give him hell for it, next time you drop in."

"His _what?_ "

"Ichigo," Zangetsu called, low and warning.

"Yeah, yeah, I hear you." Ichigo cast a nod over his shoulder as he walked back to his partner. "Know you said you wanted to stay here, but - don't be a stranger, 'kay?"

Wind blew, and they were gone.

"That," Sode no Shirayuki stated, "should _not_ have been possible."

"It's Ichigo," Rukia reminded her.

"Even so."

"We're not in Karakura," Rukia pointed out. "We can't be expected to report on anything happening there."

"True." Sode no Shirayuki shared a secretive smile. "But remember who broke the Soukyoku."

Of course. After all, her captain was his captain too.

Decided, she woke with the dawn.

_Wait a minute_ , Rukia realized, seeing shadows flicker as she stepped out into the main corridor of the Kuchiki mansion, dressed and ready for breakfast even by her brother's exacting standards. _This isn't one of Ichigo's fantasy manga. Tsukikage doesn't have_ two _suns-_

A faintly singed scent lingered in the hallway. Morbidly curious, Rukia followed it. It seemed to be the same direction as breakfast, anyway.

Sneak on tiptoe. Peek through a strategic hole in a screen. Byakuya looking politely formal, check. Renji, disgruntled, but bright red hair neatly pulled back, sunglasses tucked up his sleeve, and mouth set in that way that said he was on his best behavior, check. Breakfast, check - a lot more hearty and a bit less elegant than normal, her brother must have put out extra in a hurry, which argued for more guests than Renji who were also important enough not to worry about the formalities of a Kuchiki clan meal. Captain's white haori, singed at the edges- "Ukitake-taichou?"

Byakuya raised an eyebrow.

Flushing slightly, Rukia opened the screen and entered the room properly. "Good morning, Brother. Taichou-"

"One might say," her brother murmured thoughtfully, "that fugitives are not entitled to formalities."

Rukia froze.

"Great job, Kuchiki-taichou," Renji growled, crossing the room in a sweep of long legs to haul her in toward the food. "S'okay, Rukia. Ukitake-taichou's just kinda lying low here a few hours, 'til Yamamoto-Genryuusai cools down."

"Literally," her brother said dryly.

Rukia forced shaking fingers to close around a teacup, and swallowed a subtle gulp of fortifying heat. "What happened?"

Brushing a bit more ash off his sleeves, Ukitake gave her a rueful smile. "I obtained information from a-" he hesitated, obviously picking his words, "- _knowledgeable_ source in Karakura, that the qualities we have seen demonstrated by Aizen's shikai make it likely he is a Vaizard. The Commander-General was… less than pleased."

"'Least he picked part of town that was already wrecked to barbeque," Renji quipped.

Rukia frowned. "Vaizard?"

"Ah, yes." Ukitake sat up a bit straighter, elegant despite the spark-holes in white cloth. "This information is not generally provided to unranked officers… some of our ancestors were human. And so, on _very_ rare occasions, a shinigami will spontaneously develop psionic abilities." Brown eyes met hers, level and sober. "In our world, it's a death sentence. The uncontrolled powers eventually drive them mad, even if they're quick and careful enough to avoid the illithids - and it has been historically proven that an illithid can use a Vaizard's mind to invade a shinigami's. It's not as easy for them as controlling an ordinary mortal's mind, but…." He shrugged.

_We can't risk any of our people being taken_ , Rukia finished silently, shivering.

"Though it seems Ukitake's source believes such abilities could be safely trained on Earth," Byakuya observed.

"Nii-sama?" Rukia said warily.

Her brother regarded her with mild interest, as if she were deliberately ignoring a red flag waving overhead. "He won honorably, for all his lack of manners. I have no interest in seeing another shinigami needlessly executed."

"Hang on," Renji broke in, red eyes wide. "We talkin' about Ichigo?"

"You fought beside him, and you're surprised," Ukitake murmured. Turned an intrigued gaze on Rukia. "Yet you aren't, quite."

If it had just been her brother, she could have bluffed with perfect calm. But even all these decades later, this was Kaien's captain. "He visited my inner world," Rukia said hesitantly. "This morning. Zangetsu didn't seem to think it was strange; just that they couldn't stay long, because we were so far apart…." She let her words trail off, as her brother stared, Renji swore under his breath, and her captain all but buried his head in his hands.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Rukia had to smirk. "Now you know what _I've_ had to deal with."

"It would seem a reevaluation of your abilities would be in order," her brother noted.

Rukia tried not to stare. _Does he mean-?_

"Getting soft, Kuchiki," Renji said dryly. "Keep that up, somebody might get the idea you were proud of her."

"I am."

Ukitake cleared his throat before the silence could become too awkward. "If a retest merited it, a seated position would make a certain assignment in the Thirteenth more convenient. Given that I believe the ongoing situation in Karakura may ultimately require officers from more than one division to carry out, and someone with connections to the Sixth and Thirteenth - and no little support in the Eleventh as well, it seems - would stand a better chance of being able to mediate the various differences in institutional approach."

Which was a polite way of saying any shinigami responsible was going to need the lungs of a dragon, nerves of adamantine, and more than a little insanity. Because the poor bastard who took the job would be caught between the Thirteenth's "Hollows are our duty", the Sixth's "retrieve and execute - not necessarily in that order", and the Eleventh's "who cares what we're fighting, as long as something dies!"

And that didn't even _begin_ to consider Ichigo's ryoka.

"If, of course, you feel capable of returning to duty," Ukitake added. "You've certainly earned a leave of absence."

Rukia straightened her shoulders. "With all due respect, Taichou, I have had too many weeks of… not enough to do." Except sit and wait to die - no, she would not think of that. "But I have a duty to my clan as well."

"The charges against you were brought by a traitor, who will face our justice when fate and skill permits it," her brother stated. "The honor of the Kuchiki would be well served by your return to duty."

Well served. Not best served. He was leaving the choice up to her.

_Thank you, my brother._

She bowed to them both. "What do you require, Ukitake-taichou?"

"A retest, first," the white-haired captain said firmly. "Two months under Urahara's polymorph, _and_ exposure to Kurosaki's wild shadow magic - either of those, unmonitored, would be reason enough for a full reevaluation. Including time with the Fourth." Ukitake rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. "I doubt Kisuke left any surprises for you the way he did Ishida, but I'd rather be sure."

"Say what?" Renji almost rose. "Somethin' happened to the Quincy?"

"He'll be fine. Eventually." Ukitake chuckled. "Ichigo took him home. If the wards Rukia put up could shield one shinigami from Hollows not actively searching, they should have no problem with two."

_Two?_ Rukia's jaw dropped. "Ichigo said he'd gotten Ishida _and his zanpakutou_ speaking to each other…."

"Oh, good." Ukitake hesitated, considering that. "I think." He shook his head. "In any event… we should arrange for your reevaluation first, then I can turn over the paperwork for you to requisition the extra hell butterflies."

Well, one thing hadn't changed, at least. Her captain was still avoiding any and all possible paperwork. Though given how often he was too ill to do more than rest and sleep, she couldn't blame him.

Renji stared at him in utter disbelief. "You're telling me the Quincy is a _shinigami?_ "

"So it seems," Ukitake said cheerfully. "My, where should we start? All of this looks delicious…."

Taking the hint, Rukia applied herself to breakfast, caught between giggles and head-banging frustration. Who wouldn't giggle, after all, at the utterly nonplussed expression on her brother's face?

As for the frustration… well. Take on the position of unofficial liaison between Soul Society, Urahara, and Ichigo's friends? While trying to handle kidou instruction for Ichigo, Karin, and an ex-Quincy? _And I thought just dealing with Ichigo was bad._

Well. She'd always wanted to earn more responsibility. To make her brother see _her_ , and not the ghost behind his eyes.

_My sister's ghost._

He might never believe it, but Rukia had no doubt Byakuya had loved Hisana. She'd lived in Ichigo's closet, stared at his family's mad antics - and seen the hole in all their hearts, carved in stone in a sunlit graveyard.

Without Ichigo, she'd never have felt her brother's pain. Without his nightmares, she never would have understood why Byakuya wanted her to go back to Earth now. Not because he was ashamed. Because he was hurting, had been hurting so long - but with the wound finally exposed, part of it might heal.

And that was change. And if change had frightened Ichigo - and hunting Hollows had _terrified_ him, at first - how much more would it frighten her noble brother, born to the unchanging rhythms of Seireitei?

_He needs time to think._

Privately Rukia vowed to make sure her captain's assignment included travel back to Seireitei as often as reasonably possible. If Ichigo's example were anything to judge by, her brother would need to talk. Eventually.

Of course, if her brother ever learned she was treating him like Ichigo, she'd get an up close and personal look at Senbonzakura's bankai.

Grinning, Rukia dug into breakfast. There were _plans_ to be made.

 


	3. Magic with Class

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What did you do on summer break?

The neatest thing about summer break, Miss Ochi thought, wrapped in invisibility as she sat cross-legged on her desk, was watching how students came back after it. Some showed up bubbly and tan, after weeks of fun in the sun at greater Edo's dragon-guarded beaches. Some slunk in pale and depressed, having spent their time off helping their families in less-than-lucrative trades.

"Ichiiigo- _awk!_ "

And then, there was Keigo.

Miss Ochi smirked as she watched the younger Kurosaki slouch into homeroom, having casually clothes-lined his over-enthusiastic classmate. _Nice form, perfect timing and execution… damn, he's gotten even better._

She barely kept herself from giggling in glee. Her own private puzzle just kept surprising her.

Not that Ichigo knew he was her puzzle. But ever since that unnamed ghost had attacked the Kurosaki Clinic… well, you'd have to be blind or utterly careless to have missed the changes in the young man.

Or, practically speaking, not crazy. Because, after all, faculty opinion held that anyone with hair _that_ orange just had to have red dragon blood. Which, as everyone knew, meant chaos, evil, trouble, and just plain someone who would never amount to anything good for society. He didn't even have sorcerous potential to balance it out. If his grades had ever slipped, he'd have been out on his ear in an instant. As it was, Ichigo had never actually _done_ anything. Besides stick up for Chad… which no few of her fellow teachers thought was clear evidence of evil right there.

_Hidebound jerks. You are_ not _your father's blood. Even if Yatsutora's father was evil - and we don't know that. The kid's being sponsored for paladin training by the church of Rao, for gods' sakes. There's not an evil bone in his body._

Not to mention, if Ichigo _had_ had the hoodlum tendencies her fellow instructors seemed eager to hang on the kid, he'd never have been such good friends with Tatsuki. Miss Arisawa had a threat-to-Orihime sense that had to be seen to be believed, and more than enough bare-handed fighting prowess to back it up.

Though given what Miss Ochi had seen - and her fellow teachers somehow hadn't - before break, Tatsuki might find Ichigo a bit beyond even her skills, now.

_I should just get all of the faculty blindfolds for Winterfest_ , the retired bard thought ruefully, wincing as Keigo's next screech hit a perfect E above high C. Too bad the handsome brunet was training for sorcerer, not bard. She'd give his horrified leap into Mizuiro's arms 9.5 out of 10 for sheer entertainment value.

Though it wasn't _entirely_ a performance. Even for her, seeing Orihime, Chad, and Uryuu behaving politely toward each other was something of a shock. Seeing Ichigo pull up a desk to join them all, even more so. And she'd seen it coming. If not quite this fast.

Resting her chin in her hands, Miss Ochi grinned, recalling how she'd first put together that Something Was Up with Kurosaki Ichigo. First, there were the sudden bouts of class-skipping; though his grades _hadn't_ slipped, by dint of what heroic effort she could only imagine. Then, and almost concurrently, came the sudden rash of unexplained scratches and bruises… and one quiet, grim-faced Kurosaki joining Chad in his daily kenjutsu instruction.

A physician-alchemist's son, taking up sword-training. And he was _good_ at it.

Yet somehow, carefully, never too good. Mr. Kagine had been overheard to swear Kurosaki was deliberately flubbing some of the moves. Just enough to keep him from any consideration for the competitive team roster. Not that he ought to be on it in the first place, Kagine would hastily add; what swordsman in his right mind wanted to fight _without armor?_

"Sword-sages do," Miss Ochi had informed him cheerfully, having run into a few of those rare and closed-mouth swordmasters in her decades of wandering worlds and planes. Decades most of her fellow teachers didn't even suspect; knowing some _very_ odd alchemists was handy for many, many things. _Potions of longevity_ , for one. "Oh, and some duskblades, and every once in a while you run into a _really_ strange sorcerer-"

Which always made them stop listening right there. Kurosaki didn't have sorcery. He'd been tested. Thoroughly. Over his father's strident objections.

Very interesting, those. Most people thought highly of having a sorcerer in the family; it was almost certain proof of dragon blood in their lineage, and so a connection, however tenuous, to the noble creatures that ruled all of Yamato.

Kurosaki Isshin, however, was not impressed by sorcerers. Or nobles. Or even dragons. He was what he was, a healer who treated the patients who came his way, and until three months ago, Ichigo had had every declared intention of following in his father's footsteps.

_Not anymore. Though he doesn't know it yet._

Back then, Ichigo had moved like a teenager with good balance and a little too much experience with ten-on-one odds. Now - well.

_I don't know what he's been after, but he's been fighting_ something. _Something that meant to kill him. And he's still standing._

And he wasn't the only one.

_Paladin_ , Miss Ochi ticked off in her head, relaxing in the subtle pulse of inner peace that seemed to radiate from Chad this morning. _Favored soul_. Orihime, dreamy and talkative as ever, but brown eyes alight with a new fierceness. _Aasimar… ranger, from the way his fingers get bloody every time things turn weird._ Uryuu felt even more otherworldly than usual today, hair not just its usual glossy blue-black, but actually glowing faintly blue when the sun hit it right. _So who's their mage?_

Because they _were_ adventurers. She could see it in the way they'd casually pushed desks together so no direction went unwatched, the sudden sense of taut readiness when Chiziru did her usual glomp-and-attempt-to-fondle to Orihime, before Tatsuki heel-kicked the rabid lesbian away. The bard could all but see the chain of thought flash across the other three's faces: _Movement. Threat? No, annoyance. Non-lethal tactics only._

And no sane adventuring party would go out without an arcane spell-user. Which left her wondering about Ichigo all over again. Dragonblood sorcery wasn't the only way to tap that kind of power, and arcane spells went off _much_ better when you weren't wearing armor….

But besides that - it wasn't just combat experience. Somehow, the four of them seemed _different_.

_So many questions._ Miss Ochi couldn't help but grin, as the invisibility ended with a near-soundless _pop_. After all, she was a bard. She knew exactly how to start prying for answers. "Good morning!"

"Good morning, Miss Ochi!" came the students' rough chorus.

"Now that we're all here… well, except for Oshima and Sorimachi, they're hoodlums anyway, who cares… I'm sure you'll be horribly disappointed to know that tomorrow, we're all leaving school for a zoological learning experience!"

Wary, curious murmurs.

"I know you're all hard-working, studious youngsters," Miss Ochi went on, tongue firmly in cheek. "So I'm sure you _never_ spend any time hanging out on street corners listening to the latest adventure songs, and you have _no idea_ who the Seven Spines of the Manticore are-"

Mass snickers, interspersed with more than a few excited squeals.

"Well, our grand adventurers tracked down a scion of Hazd'ladus the Black, and after a series of misadventures I'm sure you'll _never_ hear about, they've brought the carcass back for the use of our local spellcasters. And since some of those casters are your teachers - field trip!"

Ragged cheers.

"But for now, it's time to get back into that horrible habit - the in-class assignment!" She twinkled at them. "We'll start with a short essay: What did _you_ do on summer break?"

Mass groans. And hidden almost in the back, four faces frozen in absolute terror.

_Ah, life is good._

 

* * *

 

"Worst. Morning. Of my life," Ichigo grumbled under his breath, plodding up the stairs to the roof, lunch tucked under his arm. Winced, expecting a trilled, too-sweet comment, a none-too-subtle kick to his knee-

_Rukia's not here._

He swallowed the lump in his throat. Sure, the midget wasn't here. But at least she was not-here because she was hanging around the Kuchiki mansion making up with her brother, not because she was caged in a tower of magic-stealing stone waiting to be executed.

_That's right, look on the bright side_ \- Ichigo's brain caught up with his eyes just before his feet automatically dodged the unexpected object occupying his usual roof-lounging spot. Female student uniform. Short but cute black hair. Huddled in completely unfamiliar misery against the bricks ringing the roof. "Tatsuki?"

"…Hey."

Not even a glance up. Not good. Ichigo stifled an urge to ruffle her hair as he would Karin's; Tatsuki would take his arm off at the elbow for trying. Though he was beginning to think one of Tatsuki's rare berserker rages might be infinitely preferable to this… listlessness. "Orihime's trying to get Ishida to admit he wants to come up here," Ichigo warned her, hearing Chad step softly onto the roof. "Probably be another minute before she gives up and lets him follow her."

"…Right." Tatsuki did look up then, trying to paste a smile on her face. And failing.

Ichigo traded a glance with Chad. "Okay, who're the bastards that jumped you, and when can we help you go grind them into the pavement?"

That almost got a smile, before the hopeless brown gaze fell back to the roof. "Kagine kicked me out of the mage-hunter program."

"He _what?!?_ " Ichigo saw red. "Son of a- We're going to stand that muscle-bound idiot on his head, Chad."

"Hmm," the half-orc nodded.

"Let's grab Mizuiro," Ichigo growled on, "he's always practicing how to tie things up, he ought to have enough sticky-charm tape to plaster Kagine to the locker room ceiling-"

"He had to." Tatsuki swallowed hard, as Orihime and a reluctant Ishida came into view, followed close by a bemused Mizuiro and a still-incredulous Keigo. "You can't have magic and be in the training. And since nobody knows how I got it, or how to get rid of it…."

"Magic?" Keigo almost piled on top of her; realized at the last second just who he was about to fondle, and fell into an ungraceful heap on the roof rather than risk certain death. "What? When? How? What can you do?"

Tatsuki's shoulders slumped. "I see ghosts. Ghosts nobody else sees." She frowned. "And this really weird stuck-up idiot in black with poofy hair, who acts like _nobody_ should be able to see him."

"On the rooftops?" Mizuiro helped Keigo wobble back up to sitting. "You've seen him too?"

"Freaky black outfit that belongs in a museum, goes after these funky-looking creatures with bone masks?" Keigo added. "I though he was with one of the illusion-play companies! The way those creepy things he hits always dissolve…."

"Antique outfit?" Ishida said dryly. "Shadow-bladed sword? Moves like a blur sometimes, so you think he's an illusion too?"

"Kurumadani," Ichigo groaned into his hand.

"Yeah, that's what he said the last time he boasted to one of the ghosts about killing one of those things- _how did you know that?_ " Tatsuki gripped Ichigo's uniform collar, eyes narrowed, all but spitting sparks. And widening, as her fistful of cloth jerked open his neckline enough to reveal starry black caught in silver. "What is that? It feels - tingly." She glanced over the other ryoka. "You all have one." She squinted at the badge looped on Ichigo's belt. "But you're the only one with the weird amulet."

"Jewelry?" Keigo snickered. "I might have guessed the four-eyed wonder over there would swing that way, Ichigo, but you-"

Before either of them could punch him, Chad picked Keigo up by the collar. And let him dangle. "They were gifts. From a friend." He paused a long moment, considering that. "…Sort of a friend."

"Okay, okay!" Keigo's feet paddled air. "Just a joke, take ten years off my life, sheesh…."

"You shouldn't worry about Kurumadani, Tatsuki," Orihime said earnestly, as Chad set a grumbling Keigo down. "He's probably just the shinigami assigned here to take over Rukia and Ichigo's Hollow patrol while we were in Tsukikage. Right, Ichigo?"

"Orihime!" Ishida hissed, taken aback.

"But we have to tell her! Or Tatsuki will go ask him, and he'll think she's some kind of violation of the 'don't tell Earth natives about shinigami' law, and they'll send somebody to execute her, and we'll have to fight them all over again! Though I don't think Captain Kuchiki would _want_ to fight Ichigo again," Orihime said thoughtfully. "But Captain Zaraki probably would, and he'd bring Yachiru, and she'd break into all the candy stores, and the Watch would be running around like squirrels trying to catch this little pink blur they couldn't see, and there'd be no chocolate in all of Karakura because some evil criminal mastermind would pile it all on a barge to lure her into his wicked minions' grasp with, only the dragons would grab them all and swoop them up to the citadel of the gold emperor's clan in the clouds, and Zaraki would stop fighting with us so we could all go rescue her!"

"What's scary," Ishida commented into the stunned silence, "is that at least half of that could actually happen."

Mizuiro blinked. "Which half?"

"Given what I've seen? We'd have to rescue the _dragons_ from _Yachiru_."

"Hey! She's nice," Orihime said indignantly.

"If you're not between her and her Ken-chan, maybe…."

"Orihime's right." Chad looked at Ichigo. "We should tell them."

Because if they were seeing quiet ghosts, and Hollows, and shinigami - sooner or later, the Hollows would see them as prey. Damn it. Ichigo sighed, and bit into his lunch. "This is gonna take a lot longer to explain than one free period."

"Try," Tatsuki said flatly.

"Okay." Ichigo let out a resigned breath. "This all started the night I first ran into Rukia - do you guys remember Rukia?"

Three nods. "But no one else does," Mizuiro observed, startled. "Even Miss Ochi. She should have noticed Rukia was missing. Even if she is a transfer student-" He stopped. "But she isn't, is she?"

Ishida nudged up his glasses. "Apparently, you've picked up enough shadow magic to be resistant to the memory alteration spells."

"Shadow magic?" Keigo scratched his head. "That doesn't make sense. How can illusions make you resistant to mind-altering magic?"

"Not illusions." Ishida fixed him with a cool look. "Shadow magic is real. More real than any sorcery you've ever touched. You've heard the creation myths. How the gods named darkness, and light; life, and death?" A slight twist of a smile. "What do you think came _before?_ "

Ichigo waved a hand to distract Keigo before the apprentice sorcerer could introduce Ishida to the reality of a mini _magic missile_. "Anyway. She thought she was invisible. But I saw her. She tried to put a binding spell on me. I broke it. Things kind of snowballed from there…."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is all I've got of this setting ATM; the next bit I tried to write dragged in too many characters, and sputtered out. I'll have to come back to this story at some later point when RL stops trying to drive me insane. Er.


End file.
